St. CECILY: OR, The Converted Twins.  
A Christian Tragedy.  
Written by E. M.  
Never before Published.  

Licenced,  
June 11. 1666.   
LONDON, Printed by J. Streater, M.DC.LXVI.   

To Her Sacred MAJESTY, THE QUEEN-Consort.  
MADAM,  
THere is so great a distance between the Meanness of a Comedian, and the Majesty of a Crowned Head, that the presumption of this Address may occasion some, to charge me with an Oblivion of the former, and want of reverence to the sacredness of the latter. 'Tis true, at the first blush, it might appear so; but I have this self-encouragement, that my applications are made to a Greatness surrounded with Goodness; to an equal transcendency of Power and Piety: and These regard not so much the Merit, as the Humility of the Suppliant.  
But, MADAM, when I find represented in this small Piece, the Triumphs of Divine Love over all the most alluring Concerns of Sublunary Happiness; When I reflect on a tender Virginity, defying all the charming enjoyments of this World, nay what's most harsh to the delicacy of that fair sex, Torture; When I see inflamed Youth, by an Heroic contempt, spurning the greatest Pleasures, to court the Cross of Christ: When I observe the sudden, yet efficacious Operations of that Wind which bloweth where it listeth, converting a Saul into a Paul, a Persecutor into a Sufferer: And lastly, when I consider, how the want of an humble Perseverance (like an unexpected Wrack within the Port) made way to the Apostasy of one ready to lay hold on the Crown of Martyrdom: When these Reflections fill my thoughts, how should I conceive any Patronage too great for so great Examples.  
These, MADAM, were the Inducements prevailed with me, to offer them to that of your Sacred Majesty: For, where should Innocency, Virtue, Piety, and all the other amazing heights of Christian life, expect to be more kindly entertained, than where they are in the highest degree practised? Whilst then they are admitted into so Royal a Presence, if I can but press in, as the meanest Attendant, after so Noble a Train, it will be only with this hope, that Your Majesty may, though at a great distance shed some providential Graces upon,  
MADAM, Your Majesty's most dutiful and most Obedient Servant, M. MEDBURNE.   

THE ARGUMENT.  
cecily Daughter of Marcus and Flavia, was a young Virgin, beautiful, well descended, and, though she had secretly vowed Virginity, yet out of compliance with the disposal of her parents, married to a Nobleman of Rome, named Valerian, than a Worshipper of Idols, but afterward by her persuaded to embrace the Christian' Faith: That done, they both join their endeavours for the Conversion of Tiburtius, Younger Brother to Valerian, and his Corrival; and these also proved effectual.  
The two Brothers, having declared themselves Christians, were by the Praetor Almachius condemned to die, which Sentence being first executed on Tiburtius, occasioned his precedence in the Martyrology, before his Elder Brother Valerian. Maximus (the Principal Officer appointed to see this Execution) rendering Almachius an account of it, averrs, that he had seen their souls conveyed to heaven by two bright Angels: which acknowledgement inducing divers present to profess Christianity, Maximus is beaten to death with Staves, having Plummets of Lead fastened to the ends of them.  
Cecilie, the Worker of all these Enchantments as they thought, is for these Crimes, especially her debauching the Two Brothers from the service of the gods, condemned to the flames, and to that end disposed into a dry Bath surrounded with fire; but that not approaching her body in the space of a Day and Night, order was given for her beheading. In that Execution, after she had received three blows, which seemed to have severed her head from her body, she lived three days, during which, she gained her Parents, and made this her last request, that the House, wherein she had lived, might be converted into a Church, which it was, and afterward consecrated by Bishop URBAN.  
If any be desirous of a more particular Information concerning the persons before mentioned, as also of the strange and remarkable accident, which happened between Saphricius and Nicephorus, they may consult the Writers of Ecclesiastical History, who have given an account of them. But those being not so obvious, they may shorten their satisfaction by looking into the Collection of Saints Lives, set out by some late Authors of the Roman Church, wherein they shall find those of Tiburtius, Valerian, Maximus, etc. on the 14th. day of April; and that of St. Cecilie on the 22th. of November, in the year of our Lord CCXXU. in the Persecution under the Emperor Alexander Severus.   

To his ingenious and learned Friends, the Author and Publisher of this Christian Tragedy.  

IT is the custom of this brainsick Age,  
To boast with boldness and fanatic Rage,  
An imitation of that Doctrine pure,  
For which the Primitive Christians did endure  
Afflictions, Torments, nay the loss of life;  
Each vying in a holy Zeal and Strife  
t'outgo the other; but if once it come  
To feel the Persecutions, that in Rome  
First Catechumen suffered; strait they cry  
Quis requisivit, such Hyperbole  
Of Faith, as should produce in any one  
Such Works of Supererogation?  
Alas! Weak Foundlings, it is not enough  
To cloak Religion with new-fangled stuff,  
And then cry out Antiquity! You must  
Believe and honour the Old Martyr's dust.  
Reason and True Religion best agree,  
As Discords make compleatest Harmony.  
Happy the strain of your ingenious Pen,  
That doth refresh the memory again.  
Of Pious Martyrs, and Thy labour too  
For publishing the same, deserves its due,  
Which shall be this, still to preserve your Name  
To equal date with St. Cecilia's Fame:  
Who living did in Virtue so excel,  
That even her Death became a Miracle.  
And if hereafter you no more shall do,  
To second this, yet we will boast, that you  
Have so to life the Martyrs drawn herein,  
As would invite a Heathen to begin.  
To live and do, and then like them to die,  
Enrolled i'th' Records of Eternity.   

Cease then, vain World, to rail against a Play,  
Since this shows pure Religion; If you say.  
Therefore it is Profane, change but the Name  
Call it a Sermon, and it is the same,  
With Use and Doctrine too; and since you make  
Religion so much Droll, ne'er shame to take.  
From hence a Pattern, better than have none:  
By Acting seem to have Religion.   
T. M. Med. Tem. Soc.   


WEre I the Author, had an Angel's Pen,  
I think, I scarce should ever write again;  
Unless the Critics will contract and swear  
They'll out of pity pardon me this Year;  
And give me leave freely to vend a Book  
I hazarded to print, which seemed forsaken,  
Because the Author had no Name that might  
Conjure and charm the Reader at first sight.  
As 'tis with Stationers, so with the Theatre too,  
The Author must be famous, else 'tdo.   

But stay— what need I fear the Critics spite?  
While they are ignorant, who it is does write,  
They neither know whom to condemn nor praise;  
But if they did, his Virtue has Allays,  
That can dispense with either passion, and  
Submit his Judgement, and withhold his hand.   
M. M.   

dramatis Personae.  

Valerian Twins and Noblemen of Rome.  
Tiburtius Twins and Noblemen of Rome.  
Marcus' Father and Mother to Cecilie.  
Flavia Father and Mother to Cecilie.  
Cecilie, their Daughter.  
Angusta, her Waiting-Woman.  
Metricio, her Poet.  
Phantasio, her Musician.  
Palinodio her Gentleman-Usher.  
Turcius Almachius, a Judge.  
Maximus, his chief Officer.  
Saphricius, Christians.  
Nicephorus, Christians.  
Urbanus, Bishop of Rome.  
Angel.  
Devil.  
Headsman.  
Officers.  
Watchmen.  
Attendants.    

St. CECILIE, OR, The Converted Twin.  

ACTUS I.  Enter TIBURTIUS SOLUS. Tib. 
A Younger Brother,— true; I am but so;  
Yet younger is comparative: why then,  
I may compare in blood, in worth, in all,  
But that of time, when the surrounding Sun,  
Rides Circuit in his Sphere. And what are days?  
But ever-dying Brothers hatched by light,  
Till Sol turns Retrograde? and then good night.—  
But now 'tis morn, to which I open first,  
A pair of Crystals: And in this respect,  
While yet Valerian sleeps, I seem to be  
The Elder Brother; Say, he did outstrip  
Me once, an hour, or such a matter, when  
We twins were bedding in one darksome room,  
Where first he waked; and from the tiring house,  
(The Womb,) came to the Stage of this vast world,  
To act the mournful, silly Babe, and cry.  
Yet now, as not surviving, he, nor eats,  
Nor drinks, nor hears, nor understands so much  
As that he lives; have I not (then) gained hours  
Of him that sleeps? May seem the elder brother;  
At least in one precedence, if the light  
His mistress darts, illustrates first my sight.—  
This is the house; the Palace might have said,  
Where Lady Cecilie the fair is lodged.  Enter Valerian. 
It were too great a happiness to see  
But those her brighter Stars. But ah too soon  
My Brother's here. Suspicion is a restless  
Inmate; and Jealousy too swift of wing,  
Will not permit a Rival in his Love.—  
The goodly structure here I must admire,  
And not the Beauty that's contained within,  
Gaze on the Cabinet not view the Gem.  Val. 
Good morrow Brother.  Tib. 
The gods give you as much.  Val. 
You're wondrous godly grown of late: as if  
Heaven were your Book; or turned Astronomer  
Were rapt in Contemplation, viewing-how,  
With equal measure in the Azure plain,  
Each Constellation, keeps his course, and round.  Tib. 
'Tis even so. But when I lower stoop,  
My greedy ear, from you bright Casement, charmed;  
Would hear those sweeter strains of harmony;  
To ravish my dull soul with Admiration.  Val. 
No more: of that. Be Uranoscopos;  
A Fish whose goggle-eyes, fixed on his Crown,  
Is gazing on the starry spangled sky.  
So you— stoop not t'an earthly Deity.  Tib. 
Mark but the sway an Elder brother bears.—  
Sir, when Gemini predominate, they say,  
The heats are doubled. You and I were twins;  
May then participate in Love; as well  
As heretofore in life.  Val. 
Know your Devoir.  
And let the Nonage, though but of an hour—  Tib. 
What?  Val. 
Make you know yourself.  Tib. 
To be your Brother.—  
We hadbut one Horoscopus: but one  
Ascendent in Nativity. If under  
Venus you were born, why not I? or else—  Val. 
What else, but that you are impertinent.  Tib. 
Else Mars became my Zenith, and not yours.  Val. 
Yet I can wield a Sword.  Tib. 
And I dare fight.  Enter Palinodio in huste. Pal. 
Gentlemen, or Lords, or whatsoever you be,  
I must be bold to interrupt you.  Val. 
How?  Pal. 
Crave but a period to your loud discourse.  Val. 
Speak that again, and—  Pal. 
Nay, speak your pleasures,  
Gentlemen; and if your voice be consonant  
To what you promise outwardly.  Val. 
What then?  Pal. 
You're worthy Gentlemen. Yet I could wish  
A moderation of your Dialect.  Tib. 
Why, what art thou?  Pal. 
My Name may intimate,  
That I am courteous, and respectful too,  
Palinodio; not to cant, but to recan,  
If I transgress beyond the precincts, of  
A Gentleman Usher.  Val. 
To whom?  Pal. 
Unto no less, than to the virtuous,  
And most incomparable Lady, Cecilie,  
Who 'bove th' Horizon of this Earthly Ball,  
Raised to the service of th' immortal power,  
Each day outstrips Aurora, in her course.  
And cause she's now within her Oratory,  
It is my duty to divert from hence,  
Th' obstrepercus.  Tib. 
The obstreperous?  Pal. 
Not you,  
Gentlemen; but such as are her servants.  Val. 
Such am I, and thousands more, my Attendants.  Pal. 
We have no employment, Sir, for so many.  Val. 
They are my thoughts, which from an endless source  
Spring up, and like a swelling torrent flow,  
To rest in her, and find a sweet repose.  Pal. 
Rest, and repose! if you knew how wakeful  
She is, and how she watches night by night,  
You'd seek repose elsewhere. That Sir, is the  
Short, I cannot say the long of the business:  
For her sleeps go, but by snatches, like pocket  
Purse raptures; snap and away. Witness here.  Enter Angusta yawning, 
My Lady's Woman, Mrs. Angusta  
By Name, who by watching is as you see.  Ang. Au-gusta. Au-gusta! 
who calls me there?  Pal. 
Oh! the ambition of a waiting woman!  
Who even yawning, gapeth after honour.  
Her Name's Angusta, rather Angustula.  Ang. Au-gusta! 
Does any body call me there?  Pal. 
Marry that do I.  Ang. 
Marry that, marry pish!  
Marry such a Skipjack Gentlemen Usher!  
No I warrant you.  Pal. 
Warrant me Gossip!  
I am warranted, by a virtuous Lady,  
To be an observant, vigilant, and—  Ang. 
A malapert, impertinent, extravagant  
Gentleman-Usher. Marry thee! Au-gusta.  Pal. 
Oh what greatness she yawns! gapes barn-wide,  
To strike in at last, with a threadbare serving creature.  Ang. 
Gentlemen, or Lords, pardon my exorbitance.  
I know not your occasions; but this shadow  
Of man, had so distracted my better thoughts,  
That, till now, they were not so observant  
As the quality of your personages,  
Might more than exact, of your humblest servant.  Pal. 
So: now she gins to colloque to some purpose.  Tib. 
It seems, you are both servants to one Lady?  Ang. 
He, as a Cipher; I a digit, I  
In her Bedchamber; from thence, he as remote  
As our Alps, from the Pyrenaean Mountains.  
My Lady is a chaste Lady, lives reserved;  
Follows not the vogue of our vainer times.  Val. 
Yet if you have a privilege 'bove the rest,  
May we not by your powerful privacy,  
Come to the Speech—  Ang. 
What of my Lady, Sir?  
No, but if I lend your eyes an happiness  
To see, and hear her sing,  not suffice  
For the first time.  Val. 
Most abundantly.  Ang. 
Next time, the wakeful clock shall notice give,  
(Her customary time of prayer expired,)  
She on her Organ plays; to which she adds,  
The heavenly rapture, of harmonious accents. Clock striketh.  
Hark now it strikes. Gentlemen come near; I dare  
Contract the Curtain, that the echoing Air,  
May usher to the heavens, her sweeter voice;  
And that you may, be confident I have,  
A free recourse unto her private Chamber,  
Behold a Sonnet! not composed by her,  
But by Metricio, her ingenious Poet.  Pal. 
I there goes the Hare away: a petulant  
Poet, to make her Anagrams, is styled  
Ingenious. I shall remember this.  Ang. 
I think she now will sing it; with your favour,  
I'll read, that you may relish it the better:  
Our Poet tells me I have a special grace,  
In the rehearsal; seldom coincident  
To those of our Sex. Which when my Lady chants,  
Souls may be ravished, 'bove Parnassus' height.  

Reads the Song.  
If each hive, of swarming bees,  
Have a King, that careful sees,  
To the Manage: and more sage,  
Keeps the rest, in vassalage:  
If each flock, of tender sheep,  
Have a Swain, to feed and keep  
From the Wolf, that seeks his prey:  
Or if only one must sway;  
In a Kingdom: needs must gods,  
(Powers divided:) live at odds.—  
Then Bees, Sheep, and Subjects, we,  
Can but have, one Deity.  
Pack ye hence, you many Gods.  
Powers divided, live at odds.   Val. 
Hum! She contemns the gods.  Ang. 
And goddesses:  
Why she herself, may compare with Venus,  
For Beauty; with Minerva for Wisdom:  
But not with Cuckold Juno, for Malice,  
Towards Aeneas that noble progenitor  
Of our Roman Worthies.  Tib. 
Can she be virtuous,  
That so neglects, our more immortal Gods?  Ang. 
Yes, and as far transcending your chaste Vesta's,  
In purity; as fulgent stars of heaven,  
Shine brighter, than a foggy Ignis fatuus.  Val. 
Howsoever, let's hear her voice.  Ang. 
Nor that.  
Nay if you vilify her worth: or but  
Extenuate this favour; you see your way. Points to the Door. Gives her gold. Cecile tunes the Organ within.  Val. 
Come, this will qualify your rising spleen.  Pal. 
Nay now I see she'll be Augusta. 'Tis  
But placing the N with the heels upwards.  Ang. 
Gentlemen, She's tuning. Pray make a quick retreat.  
To see and not be seen, hear not be heard.—  
Now; after her more sweet melodious strains,  
Her custom is, to walk a while abroad,  
Not far from hence; take th' opportunity.  
But should she know I had a hand in this  
Your interview, I were undone.  Val. 
Fear not. Exeunt Valerian & Tiburtius.  Ang. 
Palinodio let's be gone.  Pal. 
Begun, not I  
My Lady shall know all, or let me have half,  
Was given thee.  Ang. 
Nay then my Lady shall know  
What you did Sir, the last night  Pal. 
What?  Ang. 
Kissed me.  
you'd been better to have kissed elsewhere.  
Nay, what you would have done besides, you know;  
And she shall know.  Pal. 
What then?  Ang. 
What then?  
You know full well how she abhors such do.  Pal. 
And know your predecessor, was transplanted  
For like offence.  Pal. 
And why I pray transplanted?  Ang. 
Yes so I say, for a Gentleman Usher,  
May well be likened to a double Gillyflower,  
Which while it so continues, is esteemed;  
And so is he, with two good suits of clothes:  
But let him wear out one, and be but single,  
In a threadbare suit, he's soon transplanted,  
As single Gillyflowers, are wont to be:  
His Lady then cries up, and out with him.  Pal. 
This is a perilous wench, how she threatens me?  Ang. 
Mum then.  Pal. 
I, Mum.  Ang. 
See than you tell nobody.  Pal. 
Not I  Ang. 
'Tis well you sing a palinody.  
Come Sir, know your duty, and attend upon me. Exeunt.  Enter Valerian & Tiburtius listening to St. Cecilie, that sings to the Organ within, then comes forth, and spying Valerian and Tiburtius starts. Cec. 
Bless me! where was my Porter? where my servants?  
Who has betrayed me to the sight of men?  Val. 
Of Men, Lady? whom would you see but Man?  
The Masterpiece of th' Earth, who joys to see  
His like in her who is a second self?  
What creature to be paralleled with man,  
Can you behold? why then should palid fear  
Undie those rosy cheeks, and coral lips?  
You need not fear.  Cec. 
Yes, like the trembling tree,  
Whose every leaf, shakes at th' approach of man.  Tib. 
We'll not offend.  Cec. 
But chastity is such,  
It cannot be too wary; fear too much. She offers to go out, but courteously returns.  Val. 
Nay Lady, leave us not so abruptly.  
I would, but dare not say, at first, I love.  Bec. 
Not love? you told me you were men; not love?  
Why 'tis the noblest passion of the soul;  
Sprung from the Will, which cannot love, but good.  
Much more the greatest good, whose only Beauty,  
Is so attractive, that when 'tis but known,  
It cannot be, but loved: Ah Noble Sir,  
Dare you not love?  Val. 
Not you Lady, I mean,  
I durst not say I loved: but know I do.  Cec. 
Ah! There's small difference 'twixt woe and woe.  Exit. Val. 
Tiburtius, here's a spark, what's thy opinion  
Of this Lady?  Tib. 
That she's like other females,  
Who know themselves, to be the weaker vessels;  
Like melting wax that's apt for all impressions  
At first encounter; therefore by retreat,  
(Fearing they should be almost gained, ere courted,  
(Which they affect:) they suddenly withdraw;  
The better to attract: for after that, we fly,  
Which flies from us; neglect, what is achieved:  
And what is fair, must hardly be obtained,  
By frequent suits; which they affect, as a  
Supreme honour, and homage due, to their  
Self-seeming, precious, and admired beauties.  Val. 
This is not all I fear, for I observed,  
Both in her Sonnet, and her Maid's discourse,  
A kind of Superstition, mixed with a  
Contempt, of all our gods. If that imposture  
Of Christianisme, has infected her,  
I fear 'twill be a Bar to my designs.  Tib. 
Tush! Take no notice what she young of years,  
Has yet but sucked, not turned to nutriment.—  
Love soon extirpates what's but newly set.  
And taking deeper root, predominates,  
O'er all the powers of man; and that we call  
Religion; but a trifle; and subordinate,  
To Love's transcendent passion of the Soul.  
Our gods themselves, vanquished by powerful Love,  
Have laid aside their Deities to court  
A Beauty. Shall not then Religion,  
Which but relates, unto those heavenly powers,  
Subscribe unto the Sovereignty of Love.  Val. 
Heavens grant it may, but soft, whose coming here?  Enter Marcus and Flavia. Mar. 
Come Flavia, my dear sweet wife; where's our daughter,  Cecilie; 
the foolish Girl is so pensive  
And solitary: she's never well; but when  
She's in her Chamber. This dull Melancholy, caused  
By her too much delight in Music, has brought her  
To that pass for want of exercise (poor elf!)  
She's fallen I fear into that lazy, sad,  
And languishing disease called—  Fla. 
The Green Sickness.  
'Tis true my dear Marcus, and as you were,  
My physician in like case, so must somebody—  Mar. 
My Lord Valerian! I have no skill in Augury,  
But like the Omen, that when my wife said  
Somebody, mine-eye was instantly on you;  
From thence, it glanced on my Lord Tiburtius.  
I lay my life, you come, to some such end.  
I read methinks, such speaking Characters,  
In face and features, eye, and front, as plain,  
And legible, as wrinkles in my Flavia's—  
Forehead, was about to say, nay be not angry.  Fla. 
Well, well, had I not been the honester  
I know where, and what had been as legible.  Mar. 
Nay, I feared thou wouldst be angry, but no matter.  
Lady's must ne'er be old: their husbands may.  
Lords you're welcome; but chief my Valerian.  
That (somebody) was such a boding word.  Val. 
My Lord you honour me so much, that I  
Seem courted by a happiness, to which  
My more ambitious thoughts, could hardly yet  
Aspire.  Mar. 
My Flavia, what sayest thou to the match?  Fla. 
I like it not: I tell you husband, I  
Dislike it utterly.  Mar. 
How?  Fla. 
That parents should  
Make matches for their children.  Mar. 
I, now thou speakest.  Fla. 
No, bring them face to face, and let them parley.  
Ah! 'tis the pretiest thing to hear them chat  
So far from the matter: for lovesick wantoness,  
Are as impertinent, as they, who lie,  
Perplexed in burning fevers— Love's a frenzy,  
As I remember forty years ago.  Mar. 
Twenty wife, th' art not so old.  Flau. 
When one distracted was demanded whether  
He were a married man: No, no, (said he)  
I am not yet so mad.  Mar. 
Ha! ha'! my Lord:  
My Wife has brought you now within the compass  
Of—  Fla. 
Madmen! 'Tis even so by Juno.  
And after this a longing comes in breeders,  
And what is this but a fantastic madness?  
Ha! ha'! Wast not a pretty longing think you:  
(Fulvius Torquatus being Consul) when  
The Knights of Mauritania, brought to Rome  
A savage man, who Polyphemus-like,  
Had but one eye: Torquatus Lady, then  
Being with Child, and hearing of this Monster,  
Longed; infinitely desired to see him,  
As he passed by her door; but none it seems  
Would bring him in: and out she would not go  
In th' absence of her husband. What pity!  
She lost her longing, next her life. But than  
You know my Lord what did ensue. The Senate  
The Grave Senate decreed that Roman Ladies  
Should not fail, but every one should have  
Her longing.  Mar. 
Some come short of that Flavia.  Fla. 
The more's the pity.  Mar. 
Else they would not live  
Sequestered as they do.  Fla. 
Are you so waggish still?  
But you (my Lord) you have a longing too.— To Val.  
Not to see a one-eyed man, Monoculus,  
But a fair Lady, though I say't that should not.  Val. 
That indeed Madam, is my more humble suit.  
And infinite desire.  Mar. 
That Cis may have her longing, ha'! ha'!  Fla. 
Why Cecilie where are you? Palinodio?  
No body there to wait? Angustula,  Enter Augustula. 
You too so narrow eared, you cannot hear?  Ang. 
Madam your pleasure.  Fla. 
That your Lady Mistress  
Come hither in a trice, instantly approach.  Ang. 
Approach Madam, she's in her Oratory.  Fla. 
I, she flows in her Oratory; but  
Let her leave that Eloquence, and tell me,  
In plain terms expound what means  
Our Terence: Accede ad hanc ignem,  
— ut Calefias magis.  Ang. 
That Madam,  
I can enucleat: Come to this female fire  
That thou mayst be inflamed: Lord Tiburtius  
I was about to say.  Enter Cecily. Mar. 
But see (my Daughter,)  
For that intent—  Ha. 
Must come to you, my Lord  
Valerian.  Val. 
I long to have that happiness.  Mar. 
Is she not yet come? Oh! she's here.  Aug. 
Come Madam since there is no remedy,  
Set a good face on't; that I am sure you have;  
Why do you veil it then? you are not Nupta,  
Till then like other Ladies make the best  
Of what you have: Beauty and Truth are two  
That seek no Covert: Needs will come to light.  Cec. 
Madam what is your Ladyship's pleasure!  Fla. 
A thing of nothing, only spell Roma backward.  Cec. 
'Tis Amor Madam.  Flau. 
True; 'tis Love my Girl.  
Be as well versed i'th' Deed, as in the Word,  
And by thy Love, this Lord shall be enriched.  
But what is Amor passive?  Cec. 
I am loved.  Val. 
Here, by your servant, Lady.  Tib. 
I might have said  
As much: but younger brothers must be curbed.  Mar. 
So, to her, to her, my Lord. She shall be yours  
Come Sweetheart, we'll sit and see personated,  
The lovely Courtships, of our younger years.  Val. 
Ladies, your Parents have left you to your choice.  Cec. 
Then, I choose heaven.  Val. 
Mine, is yourself on earth.  
Or were I 'bove the spangled Arch with you,  
I'd rival Jove himself in point of Love.  Cec. 
In point of Love!  
Beauty and goodness—  Val. 
Which I admire in you.  Cec. 
Are the sole Objects of a chaster Love.  
Goodness is courted by the Appetite,  
As beauty should be by the understanding:  
On which two senses properly attend,  
To hear, and see.  Val. 
Witness these happy ears,  
Charmed by your Music; and these happier eyes,  
Which gaze on th'object of their wished bliss.  Cec. 
But fair and good affect a Monarchy,  
Established by the will, sole Sovereign,  
To sway within, the Microcosm of Man,  
To which the faculties, of soul, and body,  
As motions, habits, actions, passions, are  
Subordinate: yea, and concupiscence  
(Though a rebellious Vassal to the will,)  
May be subjected.— Now if fair and good.  
Be that you seek, it totally consists,  
In unity of essence; whence derived  
Are all the Fairs, and goodness you behold,  
Which scattered here, and there, in several Creatures,  
Are but dependants on the sovereign good.—  
To reach to this; within the highest Region  
Of the Soul, a love divine refiding,  
Does offer sacrifice of awful Prayer,  
And Holocaustes to the Divinity.  Fla. 
Tittle tattle! what's all this to th' purpose?  
Venus is fair, and Jupiter is good.  Mar. 
My Lord, a proper man well qualified.  Flau. 
I, Daughter, and all our hope of Offspring  
Must be in thee and good Lucina's aid.  Mar. 
And, my Lord Valerian's help here! what a la mort.  Val. 
I am by th' stream dismissed to seek the source.  
Cast off to search, a fairer than herself.  
Ah! if such goodness, as resides in her,  
Does but participate of that supreme,  
And only good, to that I must afpire  Tik. 
had I but such a spark from the immense  
She speaks of, my ambition ne'er would seek,  
A greater fire t'inflame.  Val. 
No more would I.  Cec. 
Nor you, nor you; what earthly souls you bear  
Within your breasts! confined to carnal Just:  
Heaven is my choice, while here you court but dust. Exit.  Mar. 
Hi'da! here's a wooing with a witness!  
My Lord, the foolish Girl, is not yet capable,  
Of th' happiness which is achieved by Love:  
This was your fault that never would infuse,  
Those sweeter drops, distilled from Venus' rose.  Fla. 
Why Sir, who would have thought one of her years,  
Being now sixteen and upward, could be so backward,  
In learning that of Love, which in their Nonage  Enter Angusta. 
Of teens others attain unto? why Angustula  
where's your Lady?  Ang. 
Gone to her Closet, Madam.  
So very sad and pensive that it grieves me—  
That she may have her choice of two, and I of neither. Aside.  Mar. 
My Lord you're welcome, this may now suffice  
At the first push of Pike: let her retreat,  
She shall come on again.  Fla. 
I, and at next encounter.  
Deign smile for smile, and with a lovely glance  
As boldly in the shock of Love advance.  Val. 
So shall you ever oblige your servant.  Tib. 
And me.  Mar. 
Had I another Daughter, she should be yours. Exeunt Val. & Tib.  Tib. 
Unhappy wooer that has but verbal Cures.  Mar. 
Angustula! come thou diminutive wag.  Ang. 
Sir.  Mar. 
Call Palinodio.  Ang. 
My Lord, he's here.  Pal. 
T'expect your Lordship's pleasure.  Mar. 
Sweet heart! I have it; heareca, 'tis mine own.  
The plot's laid.  Fla. 
If a Project 'twill never thrive  
As we daily see in our projectors.  Mar. 
This Gentleman-Usher shall act Valerian,  
And this witty well versed wanton, her maid  
Shall personate our daughter to make an  
Introduction or Preamble to the grand Volume  
Of Love, and teach he the rule of For the due joining.  Pal. 
Who an't please you shall begin, for I am  
Somewhat bashful.  Mar. 
The woman must always  
Have the last word: thou then shalt have the first.  
But first call my daughter.  Enter Cecilie. 
Come Daughter, sit by me, and be attentive.  Pal. 
Fair Cecilie, from whence should, I derive  
Your Name Cecilie, but from that richer Sicily,  
An Island famous; Ceres' darling, Italy's  
Delight, Relief, and Granary: whose every  
Luxurious Crop prevents from hungry Death,  
A thousand famishing for want of Grain.  
Ah! then will you so fair and rich a Soil,  
So fertilized with a more beauteous Crop,  
Permit your servant, languish in your love?  Mar. 
Harken to this Daughter.  Ang. 
Ah good my Lord shall I be th' Island Sicily  
Environed with the sea, not married with  
The neighbouring shore? you teach me then a part  
To live, a Virgin, which is my desire.—  
As my Lady I spoke it. Aside.  Pal. 
But how will you, be fruitful then, sweet Lady?  Flau. 
Well said, now thou comest to drive it home.  Pal. 
How like that fertile Isle? or how shall I  
But reap one crop of savours to enrich  
Beyond desert, your servant, who protests—  
He's at a nonplus— ah! fair would you deign  
To sow within my heart one hopeful grain.  Ang. 
Of Mustardseed my Lord?  Pal. 
Which mounting high,  
We both reciprocal, shall multiply.  Mar. 
I, keep her to that my Lord Valerian.  Ang. 
Now I'll be more serious, for my Lady else will be angry.  
A Virgin's thoughts that spring from a chaste soul,  
Are such a crop as fertile Sicily  
Cannot produce: whose every lade's a sword,  
To slice in two a thousand amorous darts,  
With which blind Cupid wounds but the impure.  
Each knob, upon the stalk, a stop to vice,  
Each ear of corn that riseth from her heart,  
More highly prized than all your belly grain.  Fla. 
I, now she comes near the matter in hand.  Ang. 
Each petty husk, a closet in her breast,  
Presents a Viand on a Plate of gold,  
To him whose love she vows to live and die.  Pal. 
But then where's the increase? to multiply  
Fair Lady is what Nature has ordained.  Ang. 
The Crystal cup's more pure that's never stained.  Pal. 
How should we live, if ne'er were tilled the Earth?  Ang. 
She was a Virgin first, and by chaste birth,  
First fruits were grown e'er sown; such shall be mine.  Pal. 
Tush these are words, Lady you must be mine.  
I vow you must, else I shall pine and die.  Ang. 
Yes, so most Lovers fain, and swear, and lie.  Pal. 
Yet, I am content to live and love withal;  
You have an Organ and a Virginal.  Ang. 
On which I'll play for solace of my mind.  Pal. 
Oh that I (happy) might like favour find.  Mar. 
Now daughter, how like you this? she frowns.  
Come wife leave her to ruminate a while.  Fla. 
Angusta attend on me.  Mar. 
Palinodio.  Pal. 
Here my Lord.  Mar. 
Come away.  Pal. 
Nor Lord, nor now Valerian, I must say, Exeunt. manet Cecilie.  
Madam, I was not serious; did but play.—  Cec. 
Thus am I taught to be a Pagan's love;  
A Child to Parents who adore the Gods.  
O Rome! thy God's obscene, would have me such.  
Not live as I have vowed to him above,  
Who has assigned a Guardian to protect me.  
Maugre the malice of th' infernal fiend,  
And all his sordid Vassals, still shall spring,  
My pure white Lily, to my Sovereign King. Exit.   


Act. II. Scene I.  Enter Palinodio with money and viands in a basket. Pal. 
NOw my good genius direct me, and my better Lady Cecilie defend me, who sends me this night, to seek in Via Appia, for a certain Cave or Grot, where lies hidden a holy man called Urban, and many Christians with him, in this heavy persecution, Now there are so many spies that lie in wait; that I have a fearful apprehension, I shall be apprehended; and carried before that cruel Judge Turcius Almachius. To prevent the worst, I could find in my heart, to feed here of the best, and keep this purse of money, for my private expenses. O! but here's one within, called Conscience, that tells me then, I am a wicked villain. Ha! let me see what hill have I before me. Ha', ha', ha', ha', ha', ha', 'tis the Temple dedicated Deo Ridiculo, to the God of Langhter. Ha', ha', ha', I cannot but laugh at the conceit. Even here lay Hannibal and besieged the City, after he had slain forty thousand brave Romans in the battle at Cannae. Here I say he lay till on the sudden, there was such laughing, and giggling round about his Army, that laugh'd-quite out of countenance, the courageous Hannibal, raised his siege, removed into Campania. Ha', ha', ha', this way is so full of briers and bushes! some body may lie skulking here. Enter Phantasio, and lays hold on Palinodio's Cloak. Oh! I yield, I yield, I yield. The Officer has got my Cloak. Oh! how my heart goes a pit a pat, nine mile an honr: If he would now be scared away like Hannibal, I would make a shift to strain a laugh. Ha', ha', ha', now I see the thief, a bramble bush, laid hold of my Cloak. Ha', ha', ha', how I should be laughed at now, if this were known? but now, now, now, I hear some body at my heels. Oh! sure I look pale enough now to be taken for a Ghost. Ah! what am I now like, if not like a puny Sergeant, when he first handles his Mace, and cries I arrest you, while he himself is fleeting and fluttering backward, most shamefully discovering the defect in his retentive power. Or I am like a Cutpurse (a young practitioner) that seeing a purse hanging by a woman's side (as he fears he may on the Gallows:) thus with a trembling palsy stands in a quandary. Stands trembling.  Pha. 
Who goes there?  Pal. 
No body for I stand.  Pha. 
Who stands there?  Pal. 
No body, for I kneel.  Pha. 
Who knelt there?  Pal. 
No body, for I crawl.  Pha. 
Then who crawls there?  Pal. 
No body, for I thus— Lies on his back with his heels upwards, straddling.  Pha. 
Oh! now I see 'tis but some old forked stub of a tree, and here's the twist, which puts me in mind of that robustious Milo, who coming thus to the twinlike body of a tree, by main force rend them in two, when suddenly he falling in, they thus clap and closed together. Pha. stretches out his legs, and claps them hard together  Pal. 
O! O!  Pha. 
So Milo was slain,  Pal. 
O my heels, my heels, O!  Pha. 
Whom have we here Palinodio topsy turvy?  
Not yet delivered the present to the reverend Bishop  
Urban? My Lady fearing as much, sent me after you.  Pal. 
Would you had gone before, for me.  Pha. 
So I will: Come here's the Grotte.  
Thrice with a gentle stamp but give the sign,  
And to this darksome Cave shall way be made. They stamp. Urban ascends.  Urb. 
Who's there? if friends you're welcome: so must be  
Our enemies, who by heaven's permission,  
Are but the Instruments to cut, and hue,  
And square us in this Quarry; we may lie  
Fit for the Structure of Heaven's Edifice.  Pha. 
May it please your reverence, my Lady Cecilie  
Presents you w th' these viands, and a purse  
Of an hundred Ducats for yourself and yours.  
Hopes to be constant in her Faith and Vow,  
If you to heaven for her vouchsafe to pray;  
Which humbly she desires.  Urb. 
We are obliged  
To do no less. Her charitable hand  
May never see corruption: nor that pure  
And sanctified vessel, where a treasure,  
[Her soul] is habitant midst chaste desires.  
Farewell, heaven grant you may as safe return. Descends.  Phan. 
Come Palinodio now you'll lead the way.  Pal. 
I, I fear nothing, now I have a companion.  Enter Maximus and Officers. Max. 
Look round, beset the ways, there, there they go. Phantasio slips away.  Pal. 
Oh let me come behind that I may not see him.  1. Off. 
I see but one.  Max. 
Lay hold, and apprehend him. Palin. feigns himself sick.  2. Off. 
I have him, but cannot hold him up.  1. Off. 
Alas! he's in a swoon, fetch him again, he's gone.  2. Off. 
That I will, were he gone farther than he is. Box in the ear.  Pal. 
Ay me! what are you my Masters?  1. Off. 
Villain what art thou? Art a Christian?  Pal. 
No Villain, Christian I.  2. Off. 
What art then?  
What's thy Name?  Pal. 
Palinodio, to cant and recant,  
Say and unsay. I am (as many are now adays)  
A Nullifidian; have a conscience of Chiverel,  
And am content to say any thing for a quiet life.  Max. 
Betray thy fellow Christians, or so.  Pal. 
Or so, or so, ha', ha', ha', ha'; yet I cannot but laugh  
To think, how Hannibal, here in Via Appia, was laughed  
Out of countenance. Ha', ha', ha', methinks I should as well  
Outlaugh these Officers, out of their little wits, for countenance  
They have none to be laughed out of; ha', ha', ha'.  2. Off. 
The fellow's mad.  Palin. 
Now I sacrifice to the God of Laughter. Exeunt.   

Scene 2.  Enter Almachius with Attendants. Alm. 
Live we not still in Rome? Or is not Rome  
The eye of Justice, splendour of the World?  
Shall then blind Superstition intrude?  
t'obscure the justre of our Deities?  
Shall that base abject seum, and dregs of th' earth  
Float on the surface of our Crystal stream?  
Christians I mean, who first in Nero's time  
Were by the flames which burned our palaces  
Discovered, and convinced to be  
The Flambeaux, and th' Incendiaries;  
Because they could not vindicate themselves  
Against our powerful Gods, for which their horrid  
And enormous crime, their Coryphaeus  
Was on a Gibbet topsy turvy hung,  
While his companion (cause in a City born  
That was enfranchised) had Roman-like th'honour  
To have his head struck from his shoulders. These,  
These were the traitorous pair who hither came  
To sow the Cockle of Sedition; which  
As yet could ne'er be root out; O Romans!  
Are you not Romans still? have you not conquered  
The vaster Regions of th' Universe?  
Yet suffer Pismires, Pedants, Boys and Girls,  
t'apostatize, scorn, and defy our Gods?  
Have you not Tortures? Manacles, and Racks?  
Have you not Fire and Sword, and Ravenous Beasts  
To tear the Entrails of this cursed brood?  
Slice off these Hydra's still increasing heads,  
And sing with flames of fire, like Hercules?  
Our Emperor commands, show your Devoir.  
Our God's command, show then your Roman Zeal.  
Their Flamens, Sacred Priests, cry shame of you,  
That suffer such abortive Imps to scorn  
Their Altars. Jove himself though patiented long,  
Gins to take his Thunderbolts in hand  
To be revenged on you; which to prevent  
Be vigilant: suppress this creeping Cancer. Be  
But Romans, and you are what you should be.  Enter Maximus, Saphricius, and Palinodio. 
Maximus? Welcome. Thy Name superlative  
Speaks what thou art. Say then, hast thou disrouted  
Those lurking Squadrons? forced them from their Caverns,  
Where in the night, conscious of fouler crimes,  
They with their superstitious rites, and fopperies  
Exasperate our Gods 'gainst us, who suffer  
Such sacrilegious persons; (rather vipers)  
T'escape unpunished: Vipers, which in their Birth,  
(Pernicious) bring destruction to their Dams.—  
So they to the Republic. Speak Maximus,  
And if thy service shall deserve reward,  
The Gods, and we next to the Emperor,  
Shall guerdon thine endeavours.  Max. 
My Lord, I with my soldiers (ere the morn.  
Had banished sable night) as private as we could,  
Went to surprise such irreligious persons  
As are offensive to the state? yet 'twas  
Our fortune but to light on two. A pair  
Unparallelled: one for a sturdy Knave,  
Th'other a fool, or if a rational man;  
'Twas then a guilty Conscience, with sad fear,  
Which did transport his brains beyond himself.  Alm. 
Sirrah! why Sirrah! Speakest not when I  
But Sirrah thee? was not this blast enough  
To make thee utter with a faltering tongue,  
A more submissive and obsequious plea,  
To beg a pardon for thy foul delict.  Sap. 
The toad is swelling, and gins to belch  
The gall and venom of his poisoned breast.  Alm. 
Sirrah! I have a Rack.  Sap. 
And I have limbs.  Alm. 
I have a Torture.  Sap. 
I patience to endure.  Alm. 
But I have scorching flames.  Sap. 
Then let them burn.  Alm. 
Thou shalt by morsels die: but piece by piece.  Sap. 
All's one to me: at last I can but die.  Alm. 
Yes, die a thousand times and live again.  
Or, if thou wilt, do but adore the Gods:  
But sacrifice to them, and thou art quit.  Sap. 
Or die, or quit: A play at fast and lose,  
I scorn to live by adoring of thy Gods,  
Fear not to die, but dare in spite of them,  
Yield this to fire or sword, or beast, or flame,  
To raise a Trophy to th' Immortal Power.  Max. 
I told you my Lord, he was a sturdy Knave.  Alm. 
A Bragadochio this, a Famfarone.  
Swells like a bubble, will the sooner break.  
Take him aside. Nor Sirrah what are you?  Palin. 
He's a wiseman (my Lord) that knows what he is.  Alm. 
Sirrah are you a servant of Jupiter's?  Pal. 
Jupiter would never entertain me  
Into his service, yet my ambition was  
To have been a follower of his. Ha', ha', ha',  
But his Queen Juno said I had not wit  
and craft enough to be a Courtier, ha', ha', ha'.  
But Venus she's a beautiful Lady:  
I have played at span-counter with her boy  
Cupid. But he was blind, and so I burst  
His Bow and Arrows; since when I never was in love.  Alm. 
Sirrah, will you sacrifice to the Gods?  Pal. 
And Goddesses too, tagg and rag, to Smug,  
Vulcan the Blacksmith, and Priapus too,  
With his fie for shame, to scare away the birds  
That come to eat the Cherries and Mulberries, ha', ha', ha'.  Alm. 
Maximus, what sot have you brought me hither?  Max. 
My Lord he's servant to a Roman Lady.  
And cause a fool he's fitter to be examined.  Alm. 
In matter of nonsense. Let him be well whipped,  
Or else discover what he is, and where  
His Lady dwells.  Pal. 
Ha', ha', ha', my Lady?  
She's fairer than your Goddess Venus, I'll stand to't.  Max. 
At a Pillar thou shalt stand and be well whipped.  Pal. 
Well then, every thing that's well, is not amiss.  
Farewell my Lord, I will not say I kiss  
Your Lordship's hands: for then (if with the lip):  
There were more rhyme, than reason in the whip.  
Ha', ha', ha'.  Alm. 
Sirrah I'll have you whipped  
Out of this laughing humour.  Pal. 
Bacchus' your God  
To this invites. Let me drink wine, and quaff pure,  
And sacrifice unto the God of Laugh— ture, ha', ha'.  Alm. 
Away with them: Justice seems in disgrace,  
Until she come to have her time and place. Exeunt.   

Scene 3.  Enter Valerian and Angusta. Ang. 
My Lord Valerian ye are welcome, as I may say.  
And what I say I doubt not to make good.—  
I have in your behalf solicited  
So far my Lady; so urgently, that now  
In our discourse the only subject, Love,  
Is entertained: Books, Prayers, are laid aside,  
But now and then she vents a sigh (good Lady!)  
So careful of my good. And why (says she)  
May'st thou not have like fortune? There's Tiburtive  
My Lord Valerian's brother, methinks he might  
Affect thee; as deserving as myself,  
Thy features are as good, thy favour such,  
As pleasing every lineament: thy Beauty  
Exceeding mine, at which (my Lord) I blushed,  
When parallelsed with such a Paragon.  
And with deep sighs could hardly evaporate  
That then intrusive love, which (I unworthy)  
Fain would, but durst not entertain. Yet then  
As I reflected on our Latin frater,  
(As much to say, as fere alter: almost  
The same, or else another such) I thought  
If one to th' other be so near in blood,  
And constitution, yea and sympathy,  
Propense to love the same (as I am sure)  
Tiburtius does my Lady) since they cannot  
Both share in one; may not my Lord Tiburtius  
Reflect his eye on me, so near and dear  
Unto her Ladyship? but then again  
I checked my too presumptuous thoughts, and vowed,  
Howsoe'er I were neglected in this kind,  
My service should not be extenuated  
In all good offices towards your Lordship  
That may deserve your favour, though not his love.  Val. 
Thou'st said enough; and 'cause he riva's me,  
Thus to divert the torrent of his love:—  Ang. 
I think 'twere policy (my Lord) to turn  
The Current this way.  Val. 
Right, I like it well.  
Nor wants thy Love a base to build upon.  
For 'tis not long since thus I heard him speak,  
That in his eye thou wert not contemptible.  Ang. 
No more but So:  Val. 
And though thou wert not a  
Lady he could make thee one.  Ang. 
That's somewhat indeed.  
But what more my good Lord I beseech you?  Val. 
Nay there he fixed a period to his speech.  Ang. 
And ended with Lady. Noble Tiburtius?  
Made a full point at Lady; as if he had  
Then pointed at Angusta to make Augusta.  
Why should not we fair ones stand on our points?  
That Beauty may be Zenith point above:  
And Nadir (portion) to be trampled on)  
The point beneath. But you my Lord have all;  
Beauty and wealth, and virtue to be prized,  
In her who now cannot be seen.  Val. 
Not seen?  Ang. 
No more than Cynthia with her silver Crest  
Which (modest) sometimes veyls her beauteous face.  
Yet were my Lord Tiburtius here.  Enter Tiburtius. Val. 
See, here he comes,  Ang. 
But not with such a sparkling eye  
Nor half so quick as yours my Lord, ay me!  Tib. 
Now Fair Angusta sigh and I so nigh?  
Thou may'st be Lady yet before thou diest.  Ang. 
Lady! as he ended so he gins.  
Indeed my Lord, 'tis more to make one such.  Tib. 
As thou art?  Ang. 
No my Lord, rather as I  
Would be.  Tib. 
She's in good earnest.  Ang. 
Earnest my Lord?  
Yes, and you may give me earnest, that your love  
Shall make me such. You'll love my Lady too;  
You will? O the ambition of a younger  
Brother! And you my Lord, you can dissemble,  
Tell me your brother said that he could make  
Me a Lady?  Val. 
But that he would, I did not say.  Ang. 
There's yours, you may be gone, here lies my way. Exit.  Val. 
So here's a flirt: such as are now adays,  
That must be fed with Gold: and not content  
With that, must have a husband too, with a  
Mischief. Ah! that a Lady's love should be  
Thus pandared by a Gipsy, 'tis too true  
What her fair Lady spoke 'twixt woe and woe  
There's but small difference.  Tib. 
My Lord let's go.  Val. 
And leave this trifling fuit, ' turns woe, to wo. Exit.  Enter Angusta and calls Tiburtius behind as he goes out. Ang. 
My Lord, a word.  Tib. 
What sayest?  Ang. 
Can you think me  
So immodest as to Court you thus?  Tib. 
Not I  Ang. 
No I 'twas your brother's plot, his policy,  
That like a Loadstone by attractive power,  
I might draw back your love from my good Lady,  
(Who's in affection yours) that only he  
Might have free passage to enjoy her love.  
Should I be thus magnetic, I were base.  
I am wholly yours: My service wholly bend,  
That you may gain this precious Gem, not he,  Tib. 
Art serious?  Ang. 
Else were most unworthy.  Tib. 
Take this. Gives her Money.  
A Trifle for the present, shalt have more.  Ang. 
Your Brother may suspect.  Tib. 
I, I'll away. Exit.  Ang. 
Adieu most worthy Lord. Ha! ha'! thus Love  
Is often now adays dear bought and sold.—  
If not himself, at least I have his gold. Exit.   

SCENE IU.  Enter Nicephorus Solus. Nic. 
MY troubled thoughts perplex, while Conscience here  
Upbraids me with dissimulation,  
To my dear friend Saphricius; whom I long,  
With pity have observed, to entertain  
Too much of complacence; or which is worse,  
Vain glory to add a lustre to his actions,  
Which does diminish, not augment their worth.  
For though Heaven deigns to promise due reward,  
Yet he, reserves the honour to himself;  
Which, while my friend usurps, and I connive,  
Yea, not so much, as intimate a crime,  
I am no faithful friend; which I have sworn  
To be till death.— ah! dissimulation!  
Thou shouldst not be a Vice, since nor a King,  
Can reign without thee, nor a bosom friend,  
Preserve entire that sacred Amity,  
Which I unhappily (I fear) may violate—  
No, my Saphricius, is so nobly good,  
He'll rather render thanks, than deem me harsh,  
Chide, cause I've been too backward in advice.—  
A friend in Counsel, must not be too nice.  
See here he comes.  Sap. 
My dear Nicephorus, you're happily encountered.  Nic. 
My best and only friend Saphricius!  
Methinks our daily interviews and kind  
Embraces do ensoul each others breast.  Sap. 
Absent from you  
Methought my heart had but the moiety  
Of life: was but a Cipher, till the digit  
(Your heart conjoined) sums up my happiness.—  
That Stoic was mistaken who avouched  
A hearty, true, faithful, and loyal friend  
Long sought, is seldom found, and hardly kept;  
Whereas our friendship has from younger years,  
Been ever pregnant, like a forward Spring,  
As lasting as the Plant Live-ever: My Dearest  
Nisus.  Nic. 
My Euryalus!  Sap. 
My faithful Achates.  Nic. 
Myself.  Sap. 
Selfly the same, I live in thee,  
But should we die (for now Almachius vows  
The death of Christians) may our twinlike souls  
Be jointly breathed to mount to equal bliss.  Nic. 
A happy period to our friendship, when  
Changed, 'tis still a more transcendent Love.  Sap. 
True, but tell me my Nicephorus.  
Did I not yesterday confute the Pagan  
With whom I disputed; killed him dead with  
A syllogism: Lodged him in Bocardo  
And then you heard, how the miscreant (enraged)  
Threatened to complain to Almachius:  
Menaced tortures, and death. At this (tell me)  
Did I so much as sympathise with terror?  
Nay did you not observe a cheerful look,  
Like that of morn that ushers a fair day?  
Was it not so Nicephorus?  Nic. 
Most true it was,  
But.—  Sap. 
But? why Sir bring you the But  
And then I'll fix the white i'th' midst; as much of  
Candour as a friend can bring. But? and then silent?  
On! your too cautious (friend) pray use a freedom  
And that impartially.  Nic. 
Nay, I but gently whisper  
(My dear Saphricius) what I have observed.  Sap. 
As freely vent it forth, as sharply too,  
As when rough Boreas blusters in the Air.  Nic. 
Why then— but you'll be angry, will you not?  
Should I but tell you.  Sap. 
What is't I dare not hear?  
What Obloquy can blast mine innocence?  Nic. 
Nay, 'tis but a Peccadillo,  
Not so much as a defect, or omission; rather  
A supererrogation which I many times have noted  
When the fact spoke of itself, to blazon it the more  
(Like to a curious Limner) you heightened it;  
Extolled and magnified the work, yet in  
An humble seeming way; which some too rash  
Would judge to be vainglory.  Sap. 
So, so, you mince it.  Nic. 
Nay good Saphricius wrinkle not your brow;  
I may mistake.  Sap. 
Then I will tell you Sir;  
'Twas a reflexive lustre from my actions  
Whose brighter coruscation was too fierce  
For such weak eyes to gaze on.  Nic. 
Pray be not angry.  Sap. 
No, must let your pride  
And saucy Arrogance curb what is generous.  Nic. 
Nay dear Saphricius, be not so incensed.  Sap. 
Hence Sycophant.  Nic. 
Steep not your tongue in gall.  Sap. 
Drench it absynth, I— spurn at my Actions?  Nic. 
But like the loving Mare which oft we see  
Spares not to kick her young and tender foal,  
Yet hurts it not. I was as wary not to give offence.  Sap. 
Away, thy friendship is a mere Imposture,  
Now Experience tells a friend is hardly found.  Nic. 
More hardly kept, since you are fleeting thus  
But for a word.  Sap. 
A word? a tempest rather, such a blast  
As has for ever shattered that goodly Vessel  
Your friendship, Sir; a Ship wherein I sailed  
Secure these twenty years: but now I find  
The Pilot treachetous, and his Sea-starre  
But proper interest: then let it split;  
For ever suffer wreck: And this bend brow  
Contract eternal srowns. Exit.  Nic. 
Ah! was it not  
A fault in me, that did not heretofore  
In th'Infancy of friendship make that known  
Which now habitual is a second Nature.  
But then I feared to lose him in the Nonage  
Of Amity: more solid now I thought  
It could not but subsist   
Yet, I hope I shall recover him, if not,  
With that stern Stoic I will not contend  
That said, 'tis hard to find and keep a Friend. Exit.    


ACT III. Scene I.  Enter Phantasio and Metricio, with Songs. Phan. 
M Etricio, Come to the Bar.  Met. 
Call at the Bar  
Thou wouldst say for a quart of richer Wine.  Pha. 
No, come to the Bar, I say, I must arraign thee  
For Theft and Burglary. Theft in a high degree,  
'Cause in thy Poems thou hast enriched thy Verse  
With others labours. Burglary, because  
The hast violently broken, into the Magazines  
Of Apollo, ransacked, and robbed, and ta'en away,  
Invito Domino, hos ego versiculos.  Met. 
Why good my Lord Phantasio, say 'twere so,  
Nil dictum quod non dictum prius.  Pha. 
Nay there  
YE are in an error too: th' Orator says  
Dixi, the Poet Cecini, th' one says  
At th'end of his Oration, I have said;  
Th' other I have sung, at th' end of his Poem;  
I will not therefore ask what thou canst say  
For thyself (Poet) but, what canst thou sing?  Met. 
Then what I speak (my Lord) must be in rhyme.  Phan. 
Not speak, but sing, I say, and I'll keep time.  

Song.  
Met. Then fraught with Crotchets and with Quavers,  
'Tis for you we are such shavers.  
If by theft we break the Law,  
'Tis for your Sol, Fa, Mi, La;  
That you may have, for your Notes,  
Songs, to fill your warbling Throats.  
What were else all that you sing,  
But a Sol, Fa, sense-less thing?  
What Chromatiques, what were Brawls?  
What your Ditones, Intervals?  
And if all your Songs were gone,  
What were Diatessaron?  
Diatonicks would not please.  
What were all your Syncopes?  
What your Mesons, Hypatons?  
Or your Hyperboleons'?  
What your Nothi (bastards) ha'!  
You beget in Fa, Sol, Fa?  
Moods not apt for Diapente,  
Yet Fa mi sometimes has twenty.   Phan. 
Here Poet, here's for thy pains.— Nothing. ha'! ha'!  
Ut re mi nil donas but Fa, there is wit,  
And I am thy Sole Friend, Lafoy then we be quit.  
But come hither in good earnest, Metricio.  
The last Sonnet here, which I have set toth' Organ  
Pleases me well, but will not so my Lord Marcus.  
'Tis too serious.  Met. 
Such only my Lady desires  
Otherwise thou knowst my humour is  
For light Airs, and pleasant Madrigales.  
But she'll have none but grave and substantial.—  
A Poet according to the Greek Etymon  
Is a Maker, and so as in the Court,  
There be some Creatures made, solid, and serviceable;  
Others legier and airy; so are made by us  
Poems, and Sonnets.  Pha. 
But here too, you entrench  
Upon the Musician.  Met. 
I, when 'tis for my purpose  
A Poet has his Long and his Large sometimes,  
With a prolix and tedious Preamble.  
Sic costam longo subduximus Apenino.  
Another has his Brief in a Spnnet,  
And a Seml-brief in an Epigram  
When it ends acutely. But will my Lady  
Sing that my Sonnet next?  Pha. 
She will: but his Lordship  
Must not hear, nor see it: he's all for light Airs,  
Amorous Ditties that his Daughter may  
Resolve to marry the young Lord Valeran. Phan. snatches the Verses, and attempts to read.  Pha. 
Let me see, Mount, mount, my soul.  Met. 
Nay Phantasio let me read and grace  
My own, you in Prick-sing, I better versed  
In Coma's, Colons, Semi-briefs, Periods, Et caetera. Reads.  
Mount, mount my soul, mount with a higher strain  
From this sad vale, where pleasure mixed with pain,  
Can have no Alt. Heaven is my dwelling place,  
And earth below, for mourning, is the base.  
I live to love, but not to match with grief,  
A Long, a Large, I rather choose a brief,  
Vain Love! short life! ah Heaven new set my Song,  
Change but one Note, a Brief into a Long.  Pha. 
But if my Lord hear this!  Met. 
Let him, and swear,  
By all the gods, his daughter is my Mistress;  Pha. 
See here comes my Lord Valerian, let's withdraw. Exeunt.  Met. 
Angusta whispering, she's a very Shark.  Enter Valerian and Angusta. Ang. 
Nay my Lord, could you think I could be so  
Uncivil, but that I would as well tax you,  
As him, that no exceptions might be taken.  
You little know his drift. He underhand  
Offers me thousands to endear his Love,  
Unto my Lady, which I'll never do.  Val. 
Well said, the sum I promised, shall be thine.  Ang. 
Thus than my Lord, as I unveyl a heart  
Unfeigned unto your Lordship: I display  
This Curtain, where a Voice shall first invite.  
Your Ear to listen, next to please your sight. Exit.  Cecilie sings within, Mount, mount, etc. and after sht has sang it, she enters, Angusta following. Cec. 
My Lord, you're welcome.  Val. 
So breathes a sweet perfume,  
When milder Zephyrs ventilate the Crests  
Of sweet Arabian Spiceries. Welcome?  
This only word, has here infused more heat  
Than can bright Phoebus to the chilling earth.  Cec. 
Mistake me not (my Lord) VVelcom's a word  
Of civil Courtesy. I a Roman bred,  
And nobly born, should rudely seem to treat  
One of your Rank, should I omit this one,  
So course a Compliment.  Val. 
Yet, 'tis to me,  
If real, (as I am sure it is) a word,  
That bodes a happiness.  Cec. 
'Tis true, my Lord,  
A happiness transcendent, to enrich  
A soul, with more, than all the beauties, honours,  
Pleasures, or wealth, can now, or could confer.  Val. 
Madam, with your favour, this far fetched strain,  
Mounts 'bove the pitch of Love, which is the Aim,  
And scope of my Ambition.  Cec. 
Ah, Sir, how then  
Shall we mix soul with soul, as well as loves?  
If mine above the daring Eagle soar,  
And cleave Heavens glorious Arch, shall your dull soul  
Lie wrapped in Earth below? give me a soul  
Can tower at least above the waking Lark,  
And contemplate 'bove the eternal joys;  
Else what is it for me, and my Valerian,  
To lie encircled in each others Arms?  
If ever I shall come to give my hand,  
And plight my troth; shall not a mutual hand,  
That may cooperate with mine, be joined?  Val. 
Most willingly.  Cec. 
And shall not then your heart  
Conspire with mine, with an unanimous  
Consent?  Val. 
Most freely.  Cec. 
If then but to one Essence,  
And Power immortal I lift heart and hands,  
Will you not join with me and do the like?  Val. 
I will.  Cec. 
You'll be a Christian, then?  Val. 
O! stay.  
You urge too far, what by Philosophy  
I have learned, you may persuade me to; but more,  
Why should you crave? we both will worship one,  
Acknowledge one, but sacrifice to one.  Cec. 
Indeed I was too forward, and hereby  
May chance to be, like other Virgins, forced  
To be your Love; by menacing of Death.  
Or by my father (should you make this known)  
May be constrained to entertain your love,  
Which wrested, cannot be, what you desire.  Val. 
No Lady, fear not me;  I betray  
A beauty so endowed with virtues,  
Heaven strike me with a Thunderbolt, or,  
May love become abortive, and what here,  
I have t'express the notions of my soul,  
May it be rend from my more treacherous Jaws.  
See in a happy hour my Lord and Lady,  
Your Parents come.  Enter Marcus and Flavia. Fla. 
So, hand in hand; so may your hearts be linked  
And after more, but why dost frown my girl?  
Love has a nosegay all composed of sweets.  
Amor, et melle et felle est jucundissimus  
Come honey, come gall, Love must abound in joy.  
So thou (my Girl.)  Cec. 
Madam, you are the tree,  
I, but the tender bud, yet while you flourish  
I cannot droop or whither.  Flau. 
Bad me no buds.  
Thou art a tree thyself, apt to bring fruit,  
But with my Lord Valerian's help here, daughter,  
You know my meaning.  Mar. 
I, she must be espoused.  Cec. 
How my Lord.  Mar. 
Promised, betrothed, and what not,  
That may unite a pair, and make but one?  Fla. 
I, daughter, it must be so, how say you my Lord?  Val. 
With her consent you tender that to me,  
Which nor the Gods can better.  Cec. 
How my Lord?  
The Gods?  Val. 
'Tis but a word of course sweet Lady:  
One day, nor makes, nor can destroy a habit.  Cec. 
My Lord th'affair in hand does so import  
That of itself, besides my humble prayer,  
It craves a time to pause, and weigh each—  Fla. 
Each pudding? tell us of pausing and weighing now?  
Tell us of time? he wears his Locks before.  
How many beauteous Ladies have I known,  
Who in their prime of youth, could not (forsooth)  
Nor love this Noble Knight, nor that brave Lord;  
Would have they know not what: liked not their Garb,  
Or were not so gentile: or else their shape  
And personage was not so complete and absolute.  
In their eye as they desired: Thus trifling  
With time, they lost their better fortunes,  
Till Age grew on, and beauty was thereby  
Disparaged: Then a husband, nor so rich,  
Nor so proper; any than was welcome!  
Yet to consider, you would have more time  
Daughter? O tempora! O mores! Time?  
Why he has wings.  Cec. 
And so has Love.  Fla. 
But time  
Outstrips him: therefore now my Girl, resolve.  Mar. 
She's bashful, here, here, my Lord, she's yours.  Fla. 
I, silence is consent, take he my Lord.  
Hymen, Hymen, O Hymenaee, Hymen.  Mar. 
So, we'll leave you for a while; she alone  
My Lord with you, in a familiar way.  Fla. 
Will be: (doubt it not) she'll be tractable.  
Daughter, Venus be with thee, and Adoms  
Be thy Companion. Come my Lord let's away:  
To prepare for the Nuptials.  Mar. 
Now's our joy.  Cec. 
Ah, ha', oh!  Val. 
O do not blast sweet Lady,  
Blast not the tender bud of blooming Love  
With such sad sighs.  Cenc. 
Daphne your fables tell,  
Pursued by your Apollo.  Val. 
Not mine Madam.  Cec. 
Was metamorphosed, and a Laurel grew:  
So she escaped— I must retire awhile. weeps.  Enter Metricio and Phantasio, and Angusta. Val. 
But do not weep.  Met. 
No Madam, for my Lord  
Your father has commanded me to make  
An Epithalamium, to celebrate  
This Festival, and solemn day designed  
For Hymen's Revels.  Met. 
And I must be  
The Paranymph.  Ang. 
And I the Pronuba,  
For you Madam the Nymph and Nupta too  
Ere it be long.  Cec. 
For me a watery Nymph,  
Whose eyes are steeped in tears, and throbbing heart  
Involved with grief— Ah! Heaven new set my Song,  
Change but one note, a Brief into a Long. Swoons.  Ang. 
My Lady swoons away: Help, help my Lord.  
Madam! what die before the Wedding Day?  Cec. 
Day? Day? I saw indeed a glimpse of Day,  
And thither I was hastening: Why didst call  
Me back, t'invest with dismal Night? the Day  
Was dawning, as I closed my heavy eyes,  
To be made happy by eternal light.  Ang. 
'Tis but a passion of the heart my Lord,  
And now the worst is past.  Val. 
I am glad to hear it.  Ang. 
O! were Tiburtius mine, would I do thus?  
Would I so near the Wedding Day retract,  
What I had done? My Lord you heard her say  
Retirement now was her desire.  Val. 
You'll have  
A special care?  Ang. 
Of her, and you my Lord,  
For now, your lives are one, as are your Loves,  Val. 
And let me hear  Ang. 
Each hour and moment too.  Val. 
Ah still go linked together, woe and woe?  Enter Officers and Palinodio in the midst, with his hands tied, and led by a rope. Off. 
1. Come along there.  Pal. 
I, here's the short and long  
Of the business: either to betray my Lady Bishop Urban  
By a long mischief, or endure a short, but a sharp whipping.  Off. 
2. Sirrah I'll prick you forward.  Pal. 
Nay forget not  
(I prithee) thy Office, good Carman: whip not the Cart, but  
The Jade that draws me there: Or let the Cart go before  
The horse † so now whip and spare not. Skips before his Leader.  Off. 
2. Back Sirrah, and keep your way.  Pal. 
If this be the way to happiness, let them walk in it  
That will, not I  Off. 
1. Not you Sirrah? why what are you?  Pal. 
A Gentleman Usher I am,  
But now am ushered by a Rogue, and backed by a Rascal.  Off. 
2. Sirrah your hide shall pay for this, printed with Rubric  
Letters, like your red rag there, that so saucy.  Pal. 
Ah! good people was ever Gentleman-Usher thus abused?  
If gaming or wenching had forced one of my Calling to  
Lay his Plush Suit to pawn, and wait on his Lady in  
A threadbare Cloak and Clothes? I never did so, though  
Another of our Profession stole his Lady's Jewels, and  
Pawned them to the Broker; I never did so: yet you see  
Innocence may suffer.  Off. 
1. Thou an Innocent, a Fool and a Knave thou art.  Pal. 
Prithee untie me then, and let us shake hands.  Off. 
1. Sirrah the Post is near; then—  Pal. 
Nay then he may bring news for my release,  
At least some of my Lady's house may look  
Out there. O here comes Madam Angusta.  Enter Angusta. Ang. 
Why how now Palinodio, dragged home like a runaway Apprentce, I thought you had loved my Lady better than so?  Pal. 
Why she jeers me?  Ang. 
Nay let me untie thy hands, that it may be said thou comest home willingly.  Pal. 
As willingly as ever came Wench to her Comrade, when she wanted money.  Off. 
1. Why how now bold Beatrice! can you justify this Act?  Enter Tiburtius. Ang. 
At least, here comes one that will. My Lord you love my Lady well, and therefore would not see her Dog wronged; much less her Servant here, and Gentleman Usher.  Tib. 
You Varlets, let him go.  Off. 
2. Why Sir he's a Christian.  Pal. 
But a Roman withal I am. 'Twould ne'er have grieved me to have been whipped as a Christian; but as a Roman could ne'er have been able to have washed away the disgrace.  Tib. 
Sirrah put on his Doublet, button it you Sirrah, and that speedily.  Pal. 
Why so now I have my Gentleman and Tailor to wait on me, thus for a good Cause, honour attends upon disgrace:  
And I who whilom was contemned as no-man,  
Am treated now, and honoured like a Roman.  Off. 
2. You'll answer this? my Lord Almachius shall know it.  Tib. 
Hence Rascals, or—  Pal. 
Hence you base Cannibals.  Off. 
2. Sirrah we shall meet with you again.  Pal. 
No, if I can help it.  Off. 
1. Yes Sirrah this shall reach you, go to.  Pal. 
First may a halter stretch you, go two;  
One halter will serve to hang you both. Exeunt Officers and Palin. at several Doors.  Tib. 
Lady, how goes the squares here?  Ang. 
So, with Lady  
He gins again, as he closed the period:  
Squares my Lord? Fortune's wheel turns round.  
Your Brother, and my Lady were espoused.  
Ah my Lord that you had been so near the Mark!  
Married in a manner they were.  Tib. 
And are they not.  Ang. 
Nay this night was designed for bedding.  Tib. 
And is't not still?  Ang. 
Why say my Lord it is.  
If you'll give what you promised—  Tib. 
And add more.  Ang. 
I'll pass my word (and faithful) as I am)  
You shall anticipate by free access  
Unto her Chamber. And to augment your hopes,  
What I avouch is truth. No sooner were  
Th' Espousals finished, but she, drenched in tears,  
Fell in a swoon to th' earth: and what she then  
Was muttering, I best know, who raised her up.—  
That what her parents by constraint had done,  
Was no act of hers: And other words besides.  
Which—  Tib. 
When thou art, as thou deserv'st to be Enriched by this, and more which I will give, Gives her a Purse of money.  
Thou wilt discover.  Ang. 
And to make all sure,  
'Twixt eight and nine, come to the Postern Gate,  
I'll let you in, and bring you to her Chamber door.  
But I must not be seen: yet if you see  
Some countermand which comes from her, as yet  
To me unknown (but such a thing may be)  
Then— Noble Sir, lay not the fault on me:  
But that which sways in Marriage; Destiny.  Tib. 
But if my Brother come and find me there.  Ang. 
As though I could not that prevent.  Tib. 
But how?  Ang. 
One word can do't, have we not every day  
A world of tattling Visitants that come  
To see, or to be seen, or idly chat?  
To these I say my Lady is not well.  
There's no reply 'gainst this. Nor will your brother  
Make doubt of this, who lately left her in  
Her fainting fits.  Tib. 
Thou  not fail?  Ang. 
Farewell, till then. Exit.  Ang. 
Fortune attend your Lordship.  
He's gone— Hum!— now am I at my wit's end,  
Like one who his promised two Creditors  
To pay the same sum of money, when he has,  
But that in all the world. What shall I do?  
Or which way turn to disengage myself?  
Tush! An excuse a woman (sudden) brings  
(When taxed) by touching of her apron strings. Exit.    


ACT. iv Scene 1.  Flourish. Enter Marcus, Flavia, Metricio, Phantasio, Palinodio, Angusta, Cecilie. Mar. 
THe Negra Night, though she has veiled the skies,  
And banished hence the lustre of the day,  
Seems with the Music to applaud this hour:  
And with her flaming tapers shows the way  Fla. 
I sweet Girl.  
There thou must lodge to night with somebody.  Mar. 
That was a boding word. But Paranymph  
Thou hast a Epithalamium?  Met. 
Yes my Lord.  Fla. 
Quick then let's hear't: I long till she's a-bed.  Met. 
Joy to the Bride, whom now you see,  
Like to the Isle of Sicily:  
Which round about the Ocean laves,  
And gently courts with crystal waves:  
Which purling in white foam, may be,  
In Type, the Zone of Chastity:  
Come hither, watery Nymphs, and chide,  
The slower pace, of our fair Bride:  
Come clearer Rivers, Brooks, and Springs,  
Behold, and envy what she brings:  
Far purer thoughts, than are your streams,  
By the reflection of Heavens beams:  
Come Bridegroom, come, and happy be,  
With thy fair Isle of Cecilie.  
'Tis Hymen calls, come tie the Band;  
Join with this Isle of severed land:  
That with a mutual, free consent,  
You both, may make one continent.  Mar. 
I, that's the way to live honest: now you Pronuba? ne'er a wise word?  Ang. 
Yes my Lord.  
Long may the Bride and Bridegroom joy, and I Be next to share in like felicity.  Mar. 
Daughter, here we leave you, so good night—  Fla. 
This will be good, I know 'twas such to me. Exeunt. Manet Cecilie.  Cec. 
Assist me Heaven!— Here on my Chamber Door.  
I fix this sacred spell, to force from hence  
Valerian: 'gainst which if he resist, Hangs up the Copy of Verses.  
Heaven has a stronger Guard.— Exit.  Enter Angusta, Tiburtius. Ang. 
Here my Lord, here you may freely pass  
Unto her Chamber; so I leave you.  Tib. 
Do so.  
Hum! what have we here? a paper pendant?  
She's musical, and by a Sonnet may  
Rather invite me, than by word of mouth.—  
Being so modest as she is— He reads.  
Back, back Valerian, hence, away:  
Such bold attempts, must have delay.  
Here's no safety to be found,  
Back, away; 'tis sacred ground,  
Where a Champion by my side,  
Stands to guard me as his Bride.  
Back, back Valerian, hence, away;  
Such bold attempts, must have delay.  
Back Valerian? as much to say, as  
Come Tiburtius. But there's a Champion  
Within (she says) which guards her as a Bride.  
What Paramour? what Rival's this? why should  
I hazard life? No, let Valerian come,  
To grapple with th' Antagonist: who slain,  
She will abhor my brother for the fact.  
But say Valerian should be slain? what then?  
I have th' estate, and powerful riches move,  
And is the Primum Mobile to Love. Exit.   

Scene 2.  Val. 
The Coast is clear, no lurking Pirate lies  
In wait, no Shelf, nor Rock, nor Quicksand here;  
That threatens Shipwreck to my freighted Bark,  
That's bound for Cecilie: I'll put to shore.  
Yet stay: what have we here sixth on her Door?  
Back, back, Valerian, hence, away;  
What means this Charm? or what infernal Spell  
Is this which so conjures Valerian?  
Here's no safety to be found. I am betrayed  
Where a Champion by my side,  
Stands to guard me as his Bride?  
Hum! be what he will, Hector or Hercules;  
I dare encounter, Back, back, Valerian? No.  Valerian pulls the Curtain and Cecilie enters. 
Lady this traverse must no longer, be,  
Partition to our Loves, who are as one.  Cec. 
I come my Lord, why are you thus incensed?  Val. 
Come then, and let me like the amorous vine  
About the Elm, enfold thee in mine Arms.  
Nay fly not back, maugre thy Magic Spells,  
Champion or Devil, I'll not be retrograde.  Cec. 
Keep off, Valerian, touch me not, or die.  Val. 
The interest I claim is due by promise,  
And ratified by Heaven: th' art mine: I must  
And will enjoy thee.  Cec. 
Stay good my Lord,  
But hear me speak.  Val. 
Not I  Cec. 
Oh! Noble Sir,  
Be not too rash: Condemn me not before  
You know me guilty.  Val. 
Speak then, but be succinct.  Cec. 
I will, and thus a secret do unfold.  
There is an Angel Guardian of my soul  
And body too. A glorious powerful wight,  
Brighter than Phoebus' rays, when he with all  
His lustre darts his fiery-sprakling beams.  
Whose eye like burning lamps resplendent shine.  
Whose Arms can reach above Olympus' height.  
Whose breath can blast, as Northern winds do buds,  
An host of warriors. Dwarves your Giants were  
That fought against your Gods, compared with him,  
Nay more.  Val. 
Nay, you have said enough: too much,  
Beyond belief. But think not thus to scare  
Valerian with your bugbears. There within  
Thy Chamber, thou falsehearted Cecily,  
Thy Paramour lurks, whom, that he may escape,  
Thou makest so terrible. Tush! I nor fear  
His dreadful brow, nor more than humane strength.  
This sword shall make a passage through his heart:  
Where should I find thee, oh! Can my just wrath  
Forbear to quell what most I loved till now.  Cec. 
And may do still my Lord.  Val. 
Say then, what is he?  
But I must see.  Cec. 
You shall, but if you now,  
Now as you are a Pagan, should attempt  
To violate by force, He, though unseen,  
Will strike you dead. Which mischief to prevent,  
I beg upon my knees you will forbear.  Val. 
May I not see him?  Cec. 
He's a Spirit, Sir,  
Has no Corporeal substance, can assume  
A shape so dreadful, As no mortal can Behold.  Val. 
All this is but illusion.  Cec. 
Then, cause you're jealous, search my Chamber round.  Val. 
I will. Val. searches within.  Cec. 
Nay look in every corner, Sir.  Val. 
I have, and no man find. Why then thou'rt chaste  
And true to thy Valerian:  Cec. 
Heaven knows I am.  
And love you 'bove all mortals. Therefore I  
Beg on my knees with tears, not to attempt  
To bring me to your Bed, and hasten fate,  
Which brings a double death: That of your soul:  
'Tis that my Lord, which makes mine eyes distil  
These dewy drops, which trickling down my cheeks  
From thence ascend to the Almighty's throne,  
To beg of him t'appease and curb your wrath,  
And to coustrain your too much daring hand.  Val. 
Thou hast prevaled but 'tis on this condition  
That I may see that Angel; and I vow.—  Cec. 
Vow to believe, and join with me in faith.  
Then shall our souls be linked, our loves more chaste;  
And if I show you not that glorious wight,  
Say, I am false, and my Religion such:  
Say I am treacherous both to Heaven and you.  Val. 
I could be curious.  Cec. 
Be not so my Lord,  
But really proceed, and with desire,  
Of Heaven, which must be prized above a wife.  Val. 
Well, I am resolved; what then must next be done?  Cec. 
Will you be secret?  Val. 
As thine own heart my Dear.  Cec. 
In Via Appia, which your Lordship knows,  
Not far from hence, in Vaults within the Earth,  
Lie many Christians. 'Mongst the rest there's one,  
A venerable Man, our holy Bishop,  
Be pleased (attended by my man) to go  
To him, who will instruct you in our Faith:  
And when the purifying streams shall rinse,  
And cleanse the Ordures of your tainted soul,  
Return to me: and then you shall behold,  
What, next th' eternal power, is wonderful.  Val. 
Methinks a light's transfu'sd into my soul,  
And a more powerful fire has seized upon  
My now relenting heart, which does add wings  
To my desires, Madam, I take my leave:  
Till my return, be what you are.  Cec. 
Still yours.—  
'Tis but the hand of Heaven which wounding cures. Exeunt.  Enter Tiburtius. Tib. 
Hum! my brother gone, and not so much as blood shed?  
This kill-cow Champion then enjoys her still. Cecily sings within.  
List, she's in triumph, singing, and now 'tis  
Back back Tiburtius. Fear not; I am not so forward  
To hazard life or limb for a Mistress:  
Mach less for thee who hast a Paramour.  
Expect not then Tiburtius bold attempt.—  
Yet, Madam! madam!  Cec. 
what's he disturbs us there?  
Is't you my Lord Tiburtius?  Tib. 
As you see.  
But where's Valerian your Lord and Love? scared hence  
By your so dreadful Champion, or your spells?  Cec. 
Not so, but to return again he's gone.  
And when they meet by one sole interview,  
All quarrels shall be ended.  Tib. 
Very good.  
And who of three shall then enjoy your love?  Cec. 
That soon shall be discovered by th'event.  Tib. 
Yet one thing ere we part, I fain would know:  
By what Enchantment now, while Winter   
The Earth with snow and hoary frosts, such odours  
Breath, as if with rich perfume the Lily  
And sweeter Rose were by a forward Spring,  
Brought forth to yield their pleasing savours, here;  
No Flowers I see, but Roses in your Cheeks,  
No Lilies, but those Ivory fingers there,  
Which cannot vent such odoriferous scents,  
As now perfume the Air.  Cec. 
Oh Noble Sir,  
Think not, we Christians work by Magic art.—  
With Roses here, and Lilies intermixed  
My temples with a Coronet are wreathed,  
Which though you see not, we no Sorcery  
Have used to blind your eyes, which have a film  
That overspreads your sight. Go, go, my Lord;  
I pray go to your brother, take his advice;  
And then return: then (happy) shall you see,  
The Garland which I wear of fragrant Flowers;  
And see besides with him, what I have promised.  Tib. 
Madam, your Charm is powerful; I'll away. Exit.  Cec. 
May Heaven illumine both as he gins,  
And born again shall be these Noble Twins. Exit.   

SCENE III.  Enter Almachius, Saphricius, Officers, and Headsman with an Axe. Alm. 
COme bring him forth, I'll see the Execution;  
Or if he yet relent and sacrifice  
Unto our gods, he's pardoned.  Sap. 
To your gods?  
Your Devils, Monsters, Moppets, Puppets, Bugs.  Alm. 
Out thou blasphemous wretch! away with him.  Sap. 
I have endured a torture in each joint:  
These feet were scorched, these arms with burning torches:  Enter Nicephorus. 
Yet could I suffer more.  Alm. 
Take him away.  Nic. 
O! let me come; 'tis more than time to speak,  
Saphricius! Saphricius!  Alm. 
What's he  
That interrupts our Justice?  Nic. 
Saphricius,  
I once was thy dear friend, and thou wert mine,  
Until (unfortunate) we fell at jars,  
And open enmity, yet now at least  
Forgive, as I do thee.  Sap. 
Forgive thee? no.  
Thou too injurious were't to be forgiven.  Nic. 
Say all the fault were mine, and only you  
Were injured, yet now destined as a Victim  
And sacrifice for Heaven, what Heaven commands  
For Heaven's sake do not omit.  Sap. 
I never will forgive thee.  
He troubles me here.  Off. 
Come Sirrah, stand aside.  Nic. 
Pardon; upon my knees I beg it; forgive me Good Saphricius.  Off. 
What an absurd fellow art thou?  
What needest fear him, he's going to die.  Nic. 
Oh there's a Power above; all Charity,  
All Goodness, Love; for which he gives his life,  
To which his soul relates, and must be like,  
In rendering good for ill, and pardoning all:  
Therefore upon my knees, again I beg it.  Sap. 
Away thou hateful and injurious man,  
Nor I, nor Heaven, will pardon thy offence.  Nic. 
Here prostrate on the earth, I kiss your feet,  
Though you likewise I thought had wronged me;  
Yet be the fault all mine, forgive me, Sir.  Sap. 
Not I: this fellow vexes me.  Off. 
Be gone.  Alma. 
Force him to silence there, or stop his mouth.  Off. 
Now prepare: you're come to th' place assigned.  Sap. 
Assigned for what?  Off. 
For Death, by this keen Axe.  
Because thou wilt not offer sacrifice  
To Jupiter;  Sap. 
So, is't for that cause, then—  Alm. 
Executioner do your Office. Saphr. trembles.  Off. 
I will my Lord  
Instantly. The valiant Saphricius,  
Who late endured all kind of Tortures, now  
Gins to tremble every joint and limb.  
I'll cure him of his Palsy.  Sap. 
Hold, ah! hold  
Thy hand, my friend, and hear one word.  Off. 
What's that?  
For two thou shalt not have, what is it?  Sap. 
Gods.  Off. 
Speak that again.  Sap. 
Unto the Gods I say,  
I'll sacrifice.  Alm. 
What says he there, of Gods?  Off. 
That he to them will sacrifice.  Sap. 
Discover  
Too I will, what now a Christian Lady  
Is perpetrating 'gainst two Noble Lords.  Alm. 
Thou hast thy life: The gods are merciful,  Nic. 
My Lord! my Name's Nicephorus.  Alm. 
What's next?  Nic. 
I am a Christian too, and what this Renegade  
Has lost, I come to gain; a Palm of Victory.  
A Crown immortal.  Alm. 
Art thou then a Christian?  Nic. 
I say, I am; and were it possible  
Would give another life, so that I might  
Reclaim him there who has renounced his Faith  
For want of Love: the badge a Martyr brings,  
Else cannot have the honour to be such.  Alm. 
Jailer, take him to your custody. And to morrow  
(If he recant not, as his fellow has done)  
Executioner you know your Office, let him die.  
I must away: affairs which much import  
Are calling on me. Come Saphricius  
I go to offer Incense to great Jove; Exeunt.  Sap. 
I'll join with you my Lord most willingly. Manet Niceph. & Execut.  Nic. 
He's gone; O miserable man! he's lost  
For ever lost, I fear. Suffered so much?  
So long! and at the last apostatise.— ay me!  
Have you not well observed the Provence Rose,  
How every leaf plucked from the Neighbouring Chives,  
Is tipped as 'twere with Gold? Such are our actions,  
Such our thoughts; when golden Charity  
And Love does gild our every levy thought,  
Sprung from the soul: else nought avails, nor death,  
Without the hearty love of friend and Foe:  
He only dyeth well, that's living so.— Exeunt.   

SCENE IU.  Valerian and Tiburtius come out of the Vault, Urban appearing to the middle above the Vault. Urban. 
MY Lord Valerian (twice the elder Son  
By birth and Faith) you'll have a special care  
Of him that seconds you, your only brother,  
Who less instructed, cause the time was short,  
Next that of Heaven t'assist, wants your suppport.—  
You are my children now, and sheep: farewell.  
Doubt not the Lady will fulfil her word.  
Remember now you're Combatants for Heaven:  
And that your Guerdon, an immortal Crown,  
Is that you fight for; not for fading wreathes.  Val. 
For this Achievement we entreat your Prayers.  Urban. 
Nor I in that, nor in paternal care  
Will be defective, Heaven bless my Children. Descends.  Val. 
Where we have been, what seen, and what acquired;  
Our breasts may better lodge than we can utter.  
We've been in Paradise, beheld a Heaven  
I'th' bowels of the earth: the Christian Flock  
Within a Fold, whose darkness is exiled,  
As well b' exemplar life, as burning Lamps.  
Here some in Prayers, there others chanting Hymns.  
Here some in Contemplation.  Tib. 
Others I saw  
And heard exhorting to a virtuous life,  
And some instructing Catechumen, such  
As prepare themselves for holy tincture.  Val. 
Not mine and thine is heard amongst them there,  
But all in common, all one heart, one will:  
Unanimous they live. Why now methinks  
I am armed 'gainst all events.  Tib. 
I'll follow you.  Val. 
Can pull down Idols, and destroy their Fanes:  
O! what a greeting will there be betwixt  
That virtuous Lady and our new born selves?  Enter Three Watchmen. 
Madam I come, I fly with wings of Love,  
One soul with thine, one heart and faith I bring,  
Now touch thy Organ, and melodious sing.  Tib. 
But hark, my Lord, ere we set forward,—  
I am deceived if I see not some here in Via Appia,  
Are wont to lie in wait for Christians.  
1. Come my Masters, keep your standing.  
2. I see two of 'hem.  
3. Then let's comprehend 'hem.  
1. No, we'll respect 'em till they come within  
Reach, and then down with 'hem.  
2. No, no, let's dog 'em home, and beset the house.  
3. That we may do by the sent; for I smell them already,  
The are so muskifyed;  
1. I follow 'em close. So, so, when they're housed Have at 'em, then, hah for a Booty. Exeunt omnes.   

SCENE V.  Enter Flavia, and Marcus, Angusta, Metricio, Phantasio, Palinodio. Fla. 
A Ngustula, come ye hither.  Ang. 
Yes, Madam.  Fla. 
Tell me, when was your lady's bed last made?  Ang. 
Madam, upon the Marriage day i'th' morning  Fla. 
And never smce? Mar. looks within.  Ang. 
Not since indeed, Madam.  Mar. 
'Tis even so: Nay worse, for 'tis yet made.  
Ay me! here's no body. Ah! that bodeing! somebody  
Has deceived us Wife. This a Nuptial bed?  Fla. 
Nay, not so much as tumbled on. Why where?  
Where lay my Daughter all this while.  Ang. 
Alas!  
Good Lady! if he came not to bed, was't  
Her fault? In former times (I know it well)  
She often watched all night: spent it in prayer:  
But now what Lady could have been so godly?  Fla. 
I am vexed.  Mar. 
And so am I  Fla. 
Nay I am  
Ashamed to see't, wed and not bed together!  Mar. 
Now Sir, you with your Epithalamiums, To Met.  
Your Epigrams, Anagrams, Chronograms,  
Your Raptures, Enthusiasms, and Whim-whams.  
To humour my Daughter, with your Melancholy  
Strains, that now she's fit for nothing, nor no-  
- Body, that I see; And you with your Dia- To Phan.  
- Pasons, and brainsick Crotchets! you have run  
A fair division, have you not, to separate  
Man and Wife? And you Gentleman-usher. To Pal.  
That look so wild: you that have been rambling—  
And now come scared out of your little wits,  
What news? what's the matter with you now?  Pal. 
A matter of matters, nay all my back and sides  
Had been Matter, but that Noble Tiburtius came  
To secure me. Otherwise I had been stripped and whipped,  
Only for saying my Lady was as fair as Venus.  Mar. 
But where's my Lord Valerian?  Pal. 
He'll be here  
This night, or to morrow morning.  Fla. 
To morrow morning, will  
That be a fit time to visit his wife, Goodman palinody?  Pal. 
Why then to Night Madam, he'll be here. money Both give him Exeunt Mar. & Fla.  Fla. 
Thou'rt welcome then, here's thy reward.—  Mar. 
And here; come Flavia let's prepare.  Pal. 
Poet and Musician, look here. 
† Shows the money.  Will you participate? No.  
'Tis strange a Poet that stands so much on feet,  
Should fall into wants: Or that a Musician  
Should not live as well on good airs, as a Sycophant  
By an ill breath; but nothing strange that this  
Gentleman-Usher 
† Kisses his hand, and congees.  by this, and this, is richly clad  
In plush here.  Met. 
So, so.  Pal. 
Yet that you may not sing with heavy heart  
For both your Muses, go, I have a quart.    


ACT. V Scene 1.  Enter Valerian. Val. 
FEar, with belief, unpowers: disarms me now  
Who late was daring, while (an unbeliever;)  
I could not credit what by faith I've learned,  
That there are Spirits called Intelligences,  
On whose Majestic brow a terror dwells.—  
The gentle plaites I dare not now unfold,  
Who once could like a violent torrent rush  
Into her Chamber. Might I see Her first,  
Whose countenance is angelical, from thence  
Mine eye might be transferred, though fearfully  
To view her Angel. Enter Devil.  Deu. 
Here I am: look then,  
On me; an Angel.  Val. 
But not hers, thou art  
So monstrous, ugly, and deformed.  Deu. 
I am.  
And that I may evict belief from thee,  

† A Masque of Ladies, Devils & Satyrs. The Dance ended, when Valerian draws the Curtain, they all vanish, and Cecilie enter.  See Nymphs and Ladies here which I command,  
As fair as thine: Mine rather might have said,  
For when she's slumbering in her bed, I stand  
And gently fold in mine, her lily hand.  
Which nimbly now shall touch the Organ: and,  
While that, and other Music sounds; t'advance  
The power I have, I here command a Dance. They dance.  Enter Cecilie. Cec. 
Welcome my Lord, my dearest Love and Spouse.  
What means this ghastly look? what is't you fear?  Val. 
They're vanished all with him, who standing there  
Told me, he was thine Angel; but so ugly,  
I could not think a beauty had commerce  
With such a monster.  Cec. 
No; my Lord, 'twas he  
Who opposite to my blessed Guardian, seeks  
To ruin that, the other does preserve.  Val. 
But here were Ladies too.  Cec. 
But airy Phantosmes:  
Deluding Devils, they who can assume  
What shape they list: yet still are limited  
In that, and power by the Almighty's will  Val. 
And yours it seems; for at th' approach of day,  
As the black Negra Night with Raven's wings  
Posts from the Confines of the Universe,  
So did at your aspect, these spirits vanish.— Enter Angel with two wreaths of flowers, made of Lilies and Roses.  Cec. 
My Lord, I need not be inquisitive to know  
What now you are: this object shall suffice  
To tell how faith has cleared your gloomy eyes.  Val. 
But not so eagle-sighted yet am I  
As to behold this glorious wight.  Cec. 
Yet, but  
A ray, or glimpse of the immortal power.  Angel. 
Hail to you Virgin, and your happy Spouse,  
Blessed be your Loves, which heaven has linked in one.  
I come from you bright Mansion, Paradise;  
From thence have brought these fragrant wreaths of flowers  
The pure white Lily and the crimson Rose  
That, to denote your spotless, chaster Loves;  
This, to present the ardour of your flames,  
Which upward tend towards th' immortal fire.  
Bow, bow yourheads, while crosse-wise thus I crown,  
To symbolise, you must stoop low to rise.  
And like the Palm be pressed; for with renown,  
Without Afflictions Cross, is gained no Crown. Enter Tiburtius and knelt.  
Here yet a Crown expects a Champion's head,  
Who in his first (as he was born from Earth)  
Comes now to join, blessed by a second birth.  
Join Arm in Arm as you enwombed lay, The brother's embrace.  
A loving pair, yet happier twins too day.  

Cecilie sings.  
So from the Brook return the bathed Doves,  
while from your candid breast spring purer Loves.  
So from the waters washed, we may behold  
The pure white sheep return unto the fold,  
So in the dewy Morn, we see the Larks  
So freighted come a pair of wave-washed Barks.  
Then welcome Doves with chaster Loves.  
Welcome enroled Sheep in the fold,  
Mount pair of Larks, and for your Barks,  
Heaven be your Haven: ne'er disband,  
Here cast your Anchor, Hope; and Land.   Angel 
Time calls away to mount 'bove liquid skies,  
Be armed, prepare, a sudden storm will rise  
Lose not your  Heaven, but boldlysteer.—  
The Tempest past, dark clouds shall disappear;  
Next, Day eternal shine; Blessed three adieu,—  
None shall behold your wreatths, but such as you. Exit.  Val. 
Come then Disasters, Fire, and Sword, and Racks.  Tib. 
Come what can come, what spiteful hell can belch,  
Or Heaven shall please to send, or shall permit.  Val. 
Or come whatsoever it be, as we embrace,  
We'll hug their torments. What is't once to die,  
To live so many lives, eternally?  Cec. 
My dear Valerian, now, as fully mine,  
As I am yours, and both linked to a third,  
Your dearest brother: summoned now by heaven  
To be ingulfed in a tempestuous Main,  
Let's to his Standard fly, who now invites  
His soldiers to a Combat. His pure-white  
Of Innocence, and flowing purple, tells,  
Ours must be like, although no parallels.   

SCENE 2.  Enter Almachius, and Officers, Maximus and Attendants. 1 Off. 
There my Lord; those two we dogged from Via Appia.  Alm. 
Valerian and Tiburtius Christians? I thought as much.  Val. 
But not so much as we can act of Christians.  Alm. 
Nor could I think so much of Sorcery,  
As can this younger Lady actuate:  Enter Marcus and Flavia. 
Lay hold of her and those her two Disciples.  Mar. 
What have we here to do? Disturb me in My own house?  Alm. 
And carry hence your Daughter too,  
That's more; for Justice has no limit. Take her Away.  Mar. 
It shall not need my Lord: I pass  
My word, she shall be forth coming.  Alm. 
Nay here,  
Your house is ample, we can soon dispatch.  
Let first the Brothers come.  Val. 
We rather fly,  
T'embrace the worst of deaths thou canst invent.  Alm. 
You're Noble; adore our mighty Gods, and live.  Tib. 
That were t'offend th' Almighty Power of Heaven.  Alm. 
You know the penalty, to lose your goods, Confiscate.  Val. 
Goods? They are but breeding evils:  
But now disbursed amongst the poor, a treasure laid up in Heaven.  Alm. 
I there she stands who Wrought this policy,  
we'll come to hear the fource of all this mischief.  
Mean while (my Lords) you (to resolve) retire,  
Either t'adore the Gods, or be beheaded.  Val. 
What two extremes are these? Or make a Stock  
Or Stone a God (renouncing him above,  
t'incur everlasting death) or die.  
This I.—  Tib. 
And I embrace.  Val. 
To die but once.  Tib. 
Live ever: Thus I am resolved.  Val. 
And I.  Alm. 
Then take 'em hence. Exeunt Val. & Tib.  
Bring in the Lady.  Offic. 
She's here my Lord.  Alm. 
Sitting down.] Cecile, thou art here arraigned for heinous crimes,  
Which who could think were lurking in a breast  
So young and tender? In a Damosel fair,  
And by extraction Noble? But when Vice  
Usurps a hold in better Natures, soon  
They are depraved, like richer wines, which once,  
Corrupted, taint the Vessel more where th' are  
Enclosed— So young! yet couldst by Magic Art  
Enchant the Lord Valerian; who enamoured,  
Was by thy powerful and bewitching charms  
Bound in the chains of a prodigious love.—  
Then was he wrought upon t'abjure the Gods,  
And march among the superstitious rank  
Of such Impostors as thyself.— This done,  
(For mischief has no period) you engross  
His Goods, his Plate, and Jewels: Was content  
To feign a Marriage, more t'endear yourself,  
Though 'twere by prostitution. Next you were content  
He might be publicly traduced  
For Christianisme, and now to lose his head,  
With his, as Noble Brother, Lord Tiburtius.  
Who else might have enjoyed his full estate.  
Lastly, to cheat the Emperor of his Right,  
Which comes for want of heir, they have I see,  
Which was a plot of yours) they have no place,  
No other Magazine (where they have hid  
Their treasure) but Beggars, Rogues, and Rascals,  
Apostates, and such like scum of th' earth.—  
All's gone, all given away, by which you hope  
(Forsooth) to gratify your poor-born God.  
Is not this true, and verified by many  
Which I could name; amongst the rest Saphricius,  
A holy Convert, who was one of yours,  
Well versed in all your plots. But why should I  
Exaggerate, what of itself is so,  
Enormous? No: I pity Lady your  
More tender years, and Noble Parents here:  
Pity a beauty which deserves to be  
Enthroned upon a Princely Seat, rather  
Than be so vilified, and made so base  
As to consort with sordid, despicable,  
And abject riff-raffe, vipers, vermins, worms,  
Which creep in th' earth, and lurk in horrid Caves.  
What say you Lady, deny? or guilty yield?  Cec. 
What need I traverse this Indictment? all  
Compacted of untruths? know than I am  
A Christian; not therefore base; but you  
Who in your Gods, do homage to the Devil.  
Christian and base! O! had I breath enough,  
To echo in the air this glorious Name!  
A title 'tis; Encomium, that transcends  
'Bove humane things; by Christian I am made.  
More noble than by birth, more powerful than  
Your Caesar's; more victorious. Tell me of Goods?  
Gold, Plate, and Jewels! These I more contemn,  
Than what I trample on. Unworthy Judge  
That call'st me prostitute, I defy  
Thee, and thy Goddesses, that were but such:  
Harlots, and Queans: thy Gods adulterous. Va'erian is my Spouse; but far more dear  
By that which now he is: A Christian.  
This our glory, this is our true renown,  
To gain by combat an immortal Crown.  Alm. 
Our patience is abused, our Gods contemned,  
To whom, or sacrifice, or die.  Cec. 
But die?  
Die but one death? must I but lose one life  
To purchase an eternal? Oh! how good!  
How bounteous heaven, which by a quick return,  
Renders for death a life for ever happy!  Alm. 
Bring 'em forth there; Shalt see to what thou'st brought  
A wretched pair, who late were Noble Lords. Enter Headsman Val. and Tib. and Cec.  
And if good Nature be not utterly  
In thee depraved, thy more relenting heart  
Cannot but have remorse. See here they come.  
Poor Lords? dejected men! that fix on thee  
Their heavy eyes, from whence the mischief sprang.  Cec. 
Not heavy eyes, not sad, but cheerful, clear;  
Made such by the reflexive light of heaven.  
My Lords, you my dear Spouse, and you his brother.  
You have th' honour first t'invest yourselves  
Within the lists, where I should first have been,  
Who first showed you the way: but you've outstripped  
Your Leader as less worthy, who shall be  
Happier to trace the manly steps you tread.  Val. 
Dear Spouse and Mistress (not in Venus' School,  
But that of Heaven) by you we first were taught  
A lesson which we now have got by heart:  
That humane love is like a coal of fire,  
Which lies on th' hearth; but by the mounting flame  
A love divine is figured, which transcends.  
Therefore salute you with a chaste embrace.  
Farewell dear Spouse. Embraces her.  Cec. 
Death parts but for a while,  
I'll hasten after; that as our body's bed  
In earth-together, our souls may reunite.  Tib. 
May I be Paranymph, and lead the way,  
Who though I last come hither of us two,  
May by this birth precede.  Cec. 
O! force of love!  
Or first, or last, ambitious in desire  
Of heaven, you happy twins shall meet again.—  
But Lords you suffer here, as Kings shall reign.  Alm. 
Away with 'em to th' place of execution.  
O! now they're coming back, and will recant.  Val. 
Madam!  Cec. 
My Lord!  Val. 
Dear Love adieu.  Cec. 
Dear Spouse adieu.  Tib. 
We crave your prayers t'assist us in the way. Exeunt Val. and Tib. Alm. Peace  Cec. 
Blessed be your night that brings eternal day.  Alm. 
Peace, Sorceress, with thy enchanting tongue.  
Or smoke shall stop the passage of thy breath.  
Fire shall consume thee Witch; take her away; into her own dry bath.  
Beset her round with faggots, and dissolve  
To ashes that polluted corpse. Away with her.  Cec. 
Thus happy may I be, and lose my breath,  
Midst flames of Love, and die a Phoenix death. Exit with Officers.  Al. 
Maximus.  Max. 
My Lord.  Alm. 
Go see them beheaded.  Max. 
I will, my lord Exit Max.  Alm. 
Dispatch and bring me word. Enter Marcus and Flavia and kneel.  
Now my Lord Marcus, and my Lady there,  
What is't you now petition on your knee?  Mar. 
O! Sorrow, till now, denied to give a vent  
To my surcharged soul,  Alm. 
What is't you crave?  Mar. 
That th' execution of the law may be Suspended; our Daughter may be reclaimed, She's young.  Alm. 
No, no, you should have had a care  
In time: 'tis now too late, she's so poisoned Enter Maximus looking up in the air, a Officer following.  
With Christian superstition. Now Maximus  
Are the two poppy heads cut from their stems?  Max. 
Dead th' are, and yet not dead, see where, see, see, The are mounting in the air.  Alm. 
The fellow's mad.  Max. 
No, no, the glorious souls I see of that Blessed pair, Valerian and Tiburtius.  Alm. 
Imaginary Visions in the air,  
Or else the Twins Pollux and Castor, which  
We call Tyndarides.  Max. 
No, 'bove the height of the rich spangled skies,  
Two winged Wights, more bright than sunny beams,  
I see transporting of their fulgent souls.—  
Great is Valerian and Tiburtius God.  Alm. 
Yet more Witchcraft?  Max. 
No, the Gods are Devils,  
Which have bewitched you with their fopperies.  Alm. 
Out upon the Villain! blasphemous Renegade.  Enter an Officer. 
Take him away to burn with the Enchantress,  
If she already be not burn! Exit Maximus with Officers.  Headsman. 
Not burnt my Lord,  
The flames at distance keep, and dare not touch  
So much as that which doth her body vest.  Alm. 
Yet more sorcery! why? hast thou not a sword  
To sever head from shoulders?  Headsman. 
Yes my Lord,  
Sharp as a razor.  Alm. 
Hast a vigorous arm?  Headsm. 
And dextrous too, to slice as from the stalk,  
A limber Daisy or a Daffadil.—  Alm. 
Then come with me, I'll be spectator. Exeunt Almach. Attendants.  Mar. 
Come Flavia, shall we not see our daughter?  Fla. 
Our Daughter murdered? Can the loving Ewe  
Behold her tender lamb snatched from her side,  
And see it slaughtered by the Butcher's hand?  
I cannot husband, be a cruel witness  
Of the disastrous death of my dear lamb.  Mar. 
If flames could not consume, why should the sword,  
Be more injurious to an innocent?  
Or if her God with a more powerful hand  
Can curb the raging fire, why may not he  
Contract the Nerves of that more cruel Butcher?  
Or arm her Neck against the dint of Steel?  Enter Headsman looking on his Sword. 
But see our hopes are vain: She's dead, she's dead,  
Behold his murdering Sword besmeared with blood.  Headsman. 
Hum! what prodigy is this? my Sword's not dull,  
Nor was my arm bereaved of wont strength,  
Why then, while thrice I struck, and thrice my sword  
Had passage as I thought 'twixt joint and joint;  
Why fell not down her mown off tottering head?  
Like ice on cragged rock dissolved by heat?  Enter Cecilie lead by her servants. 
See here she comes, what solder could she have?  
To cement what this sword dis jointed thrice  
Or this is Magic Art, or else she has  
An Esculapius 'bove all power of Gods.  Mar. 
Lives still our daughter, or by your support  
Is she but held?  Fla. 
Breathes still this virgin head,  
Which has a languid, yet a sweet aspect?  Cec. 
Dear Parents yet I live, could you believe  
The fabulous story of your Hercules,  
Who sliced off Hydru's heads, which grev again  
In number moe, yet not believe your eyes,  
Which see I live, or ears, which hear me speak?  Mar. 
Still may'st thou live, whom now we living see.  Cec. 
Still would you have me live? Dost not suffice  
That bounteous heaven has granted me three days  
At my more humble suit to intercede  
For your Conversion?  Fla. 
Alas what are three days  
To enjoy a Child?  Cec. 
This was the boon I begged,  
That with your leave, this house may be transformed,  
And consecrated to the power above,  
To be a Church, where true believers may  
Adore their Maker, and by frequent prayer  
Appease his wrath, by whose permission now  Enter Angel, and stands by her. 
theyare persecuted.— Soft! what whispering voice  
Is that which by prophetic spirit tells,  
That this my body to be buried here,  
Shall (when a thousand and four hundred years  
Are fully passed and gone) be found entire.  Mar. 
I, Daughter, might we live till then and see it.  
I than would be a Christian.  Flae. 
So would I.  Cec. 
You would. Ah! Infidelity! when thou  
Hast long been fostered in a darksome breast,  
How hard it is for light to be transfused;  
Or heat of love into decrepit age?  
Happy who young begin to live and love.  
Dost hear Angusta?  Ang. 
Yes forsooth Madam.  Cec. 
Thou weep'st I see, there can no richer pearls  
Add listre to a virgin's face, than tears  
Which are distilled for expiation of  
A fin-sick soul. Tiburtius thou didst love;  
Valeaian was my Spouse. They are gone before  
t'eternal happiness. I follow mine.  
O! may'st thou emulate, succeed to thine. Palinodio.  Pal. 
Here Madam.  Cec. 
Thou'st been  
But staggering in thy Faith; suiting too much  
With palinody, ready to recant,  
When but a whipping menaced to thy skin  
A transitory pain.  Pal. 
'Tis true, Madam,  
I never loved such transitory things,  
Which by the world enticed or threatened me.  Cec. 
Thou'st been my Gentleman-usher.  Pal. 
Yes forsooth,  
I have been so.  Cec. 
Henceforth shall be no more,  
To usher thee to Heaven, I go before. Metricio.  Met. 
Here sweet Madam.  Cec. 
Thou hast been  
My Poet to compose in facred Verse  
Spiritual Sonnets, airs that suited best  
With th'Organ, my delight at vacant hours.  
Yet much ado I had to curb that strain  
Of levity, thou hadst, which too propense  
To amorous Ditties, did profusely vent  
Itself (to please the humour of the time)  
In vainer Raptures of Profaning Love.  
Desist from this and in a pious way,  
Thy strains shall raise dull thoughts to things on high.  
virtue's the soul of Verse not Vanity. Phantasio! my Musician, where are you?  Phan. 
Here Madam, I.  Cec. 
Insist not much on that.  
That I, or self-conceit, predominates  
In thee too much. What is't to have a Voice  
To raise 'bove Ela, while the drooping soul  
Below the base of abject things descends.  
Thou tun'st mine Organ: Tune thy discordant mind  
Which too fantastic, too too vain, discurres.  
Mean be thy measure, else thy strains are Slurres.  
I want a servant yet: O there he stands;  
'Tis he that ran division best: 'Twas he  
Which rounded, with a Crimson twist of silk,  
This neck with precious Rubies once adorned.  
But now more fulgent shines (with that he gave)  
With all the splendours of Heaven's richer gems.  
Thanks for this favour Headsman. To forgive Gives him Money in a Purse.  
Were small requital. Here; believe and live.  Heads. 
Fair goddess of the Earth. Kneeling.  Cec. 
Thou art deceived.  Headsm. 
O! more than woman then.  Cec. 
That I deny.  Heads. 
Then fairest Virgin, this hard heart of stone  
You've mollified. Vouchsafe to take this sword.  Cec. 
Only to kiss.  Heads. 
And cut off his right hand,  
Which has transgressed.  Cec. 
O! do not tempt to sin.  Heads. 
Then I believe, there is a greater power  
Of goodness in your soul, than all our gods.  Cec. 
From one it is derived who reigns above:  Heads. 
Him I confess; in him believe,—  Cec. 
And love.  
O my dear Parents can you then, not love  
That power immortal? not believe in him,  
Whom he adores with me, a true Believer?  Mar. Fla. 
We do, we do, with thee, to live and die.  Cec. 
In Paradise in joy shall ever last:  
Sound music then and let me sing my last.  

Sings.  
Glorious Sun thy beams display  
To the dawning of this day.  
That this pair who gave me being  
May the light of truth be seeing.  
Come dear Parents on each side,  
Led me now who am your guide,  
That you may who gave me being The Song ended, horrid Music.  
Live in bliss, which is by seeing.   Mar. 
What hideous noise: what wind is this?  Cec. 
That which never blows to good. Behold 'tis he  
Who lurking in the Idol's is adored.  Enter Devils leading Saphricius, with a Wreath of Serpents on his head: Almachius and Officers led in Chains: 
Leading a Renegade who has rejected  
What you embrace: with him enchained the Judge  
And Officers are led, his Vassals now. Heavenly Music.  Enter Angels and Blessed Spirits, Valerian, Tiburtius, Maximus, Nicephorus; all with Crowns on their heads: the good go out on the right hand, the bad on the left. Mar. 
My Child what music's this?  Cec. 
As opposite  
To what you heard, as is this glorious Wight  
To that infernal monster.  Mar. 
And what are these?  Cec. 
Thrice Happy souls, that of Valerian,  
This Tiburtius: the third of Maximus,  
Whose candid Vests with bloody tincture shine.  
Lastly that Nicephorus, who snatched a Crown  
That was from Heaven descending on that head  
Where now is seen à wreath of poisoning serpents.  
Come Parents follow these who lead the way  
To endless happiness: forsake that Night  
And Fogg of Hell which never shall see light. Exeunt omnes.  Manent Attendentes Ceciliae, to speak the EPILOGUE. Pal. 
Hum! ha'! hum!  Phan. 
Palinodio what dost mean to do?  Pal. 
Usher the Epilogue to th' Stage.  Phan. 
Thou mightst,  
Were it a Lady.  Pal. 
Such I'll prove it is.  
For as a Lady is cried up for fair  
By one, by another but indifferent,  
And not so much by a third, but infinitely  
Cried down; So are out Plays and Epilogues.  Metr. 
Yet a good Speaker i'th' Conclusion,  
(Which thou art not) may cry it up again,  
Therefore give way to me Phantasio.  Pal. 
Yes, were the Prologue to be sung, I would.  Met. 
Tush! how impertinent you are! am not I The Poet?  Pha. 
What then? so was the Waterman,  
Who puffing rowed his Prologue to the Stage  
As he was won't to toil 'gainst tide and wind.  Ang. 
Away, you all contend but to no purpose,  
Was not the subject of our Play a Lady?  
Whom then but Ladies does it most concern?  
Or whom, if not one of her sex, doth it  
Beseem to speak the Epilogue?  Pha. 
'Tis true,  
I grant for Ladies this suits well.  Ang. 
Then Poet  
To men make your Addresses.  Met. 
I will, hum! ha'! hum!  Ang. 
More manners Sir, Ladies must first be served. Ladies,  Angusta, 
here (who would Augusta shine  
In Court like to yourselves) lost her design,  
Yet still ambitious to be happier now,  
Courting the Female sex, I need not bow  
In a submissive way; for that would be  
To wrong our Poet, who requested me,  
Only to tell you, cause you are cried down  
As creatures of less merit, less renown)  
To set before your eyes what your sex can,  
At least as good if not excelling man.  
As constant, firm, as resolute in all;  
As virtuous every way, now when you shall  
Reflect upon the Masterpiece 've seen,  
(Applauding that) you needs must have within  
A Candid breast, (which fully shall requite  
Our Author's labour) that we call delight,  
Which ushers Virtue unto higher strains.  
You have his scope, to recompense his pains;  
But emulate his Copy,— I'th' mean while  
It is enough t'obtain a Lady's smile.  Met. 
Gentlemen,  
She has said enough, what then is left for me?  
Only t'entreat a quick Reflection; see  
And well observe each Lady's Eye and Look,  
To sympathise with them is but to brook  
What pleases them;— Lady example give  
By clear Aspects whether we die or live:  
For we conclude,— so sails our Ship to day,  
By Ladies we are saved, or cast away.    
FINIS.